We Got This Far
by crackernchinkinc
Summary: After being ambushed by the Foot Clan and The Elite, Mikey and Raph are seriously wounded, leaving their other two brothers to heal them in body and mind. A collaboration story between two authors, chanmui04 and Tauni, read to see how our styles mesh!
1. Chapter 1

_Heya everybody! Its Tauni!_

And chanmui04! : )

_Heres our first collaboration story, we hope you enjoy it!_

your reviews can make or break us, so don't hold back

_The first and last part is by me, Tauni._

And the middle part is by me, chanmui04.

_Yer the yummy white filling between two chocolate oreo crackers! Onward to the story!_

**DISCLAIMER:**** We do not own the turtles. We tried, we REALLY, really did, but alas, we were denied. I guess our small fortune of 14.29 American dollars was not enough to buy them. Damn. This disclaimer goes for ALL chapters of this story!  
**

**DISCLAIMER TWO:**** Any mistakes from here on out is Leo's fault. Just, trust me. It is.**

* * *

Olive green hands wringed themselves together, stretching the worn out skin and popping the knuckles. Donatello sat in his computer chair between two metal beds, both currently occupied. Another shaky breath was let out through his mouth as he looked left, right, then left again, watching the two beds quietly. He brought his left hand up to his neck, pulling at the stiff muscles that rested there and gently massaging them back into working mode. Turning again in his twisty chair to the bed the furthest from the infirmary door he stood and checked again on the brother that lay there unmoving other then the steady rise and fall of his chest, which was something that it had not been doing only a few hours before.

"How are they doing?" came a soft voice from behind Don, making him jump a foot in the air and spin at the same time. He raised a hand to his chest, like most do when shocked, and tried to calm his breathing. His eyes caught the shape of Leonardo watching him silently from the door, favoring one leg, the clean white wrappings showing brightly against the green skin. He did not make a comment on how he scared the Bo carrier, no time for jokes, not the right situation, not the right time, not the right place. Mikey was the joker, and he was not in any shape to be making jokes, or any type of talking really.

"Not much change other then Mikey is off of life support… but you knew that…" Don sighed again, rubbing his weary face and making to the other bed where a dark green body lay, still as death. _Bad word choice_, he reminded himself as he monitored the stats that was being listed off a small screen beside the bed, and then quietly checked the tube that was in his brothers mouth , down his throat and into his lungs, pumping air in and out at a smooth pace. His eyes flicked to the heart monitor that was just beside the breathing status reader, listening to the faint beeping that came from it, and hearing its echo from behind him on Michelangelo's monitor.

He had turned down the sound on the heart monitor awhile ago, for even though it gave him comfort that his brothers were alive, it had been dragging on his already severely frayed nerves. Now it was low enough that it was only a faint beeping from both of them, synced together as if they were beating the same drum. A strange feeling came over Don as he thought of how their hearts went to the same beat, one that he could not explain with words, but he felt as if that was almost a sign that they were in this together and would pull through, _together_.

Leo nodded wordlessly and made his way to Raph (limping slightly) when Don made his way to Mikey again. Don felt like some crazed bouncy ball, going back and fourth, back and fourth, bouncing from Mikey to Raph to Mikey again. It was the only thing that made him feel ok, though, constantly checking up on them. _Might as well get it out of my system now_, he thought, _for when Raph wakes up hes going to get annoyed by the second time I check him out._

A chair was pulled from a corner of the room and placed next to Raphael, Leo sat on it (The right way, mind you, he would never sit in a chair backwards like his two injured brothers just loved to do) and watched as the pump was forced up and down, pushing air in and our of his lungs, giving his heart the much needed oxygen as it beat in a steady rhythm.

April had been able to help them collect all of the expensive machines that surrounded their brothers, either buying them new or getting them from hospitals after they had bought new ones. It had taken years to get everything that Don had in medical supplies and still it was far from what he wanted, what he at one point in time might need. For now, though, they had everything they needed to keep their brothers alive while their bodies healed and their spirit's mended. They had more then they did just a year ago because of April, and that's all that mattered.

"When do you expect they will wake up?" Leo asked, his voice quiet as if he feared saying anything at a normal volume might injure his younger brothers even more. He rubbed Raphael's arm in a gentle movement, something he would never be allowed to do if the turtle was awake, but took the advantage of his current state to show affection that he never had a chance to show before.

"I dunno," Don replied, checking up on Raph again even though nothing had changed since he had checked a minute and a half ago, "Mikey is already off life support, and in another half hour I hope to take Raph off, maybe sooner. Its good progress considering that this only just happened…" He left the ending hanging, not sure what else there was to say. They just to wait and hope.

Another slow, wordless nod from Leo and he got up, grabbed his chair and moved it Mikey's side, placing it carefully on the floor, not making a sound as its wooden legs reached the ground, and then sat into it silently, his weight not even making the wood creak he sat down so carefully. His hand lifted and he rubbed his brother's head, careful to not get near the bandages that adorned his bald head, and looked at the large bruise that dominated the back of the youngest's head. It had already shrunk quiet a bit over the last few hours but it was still big and ugly looking. His orange loving brother also supported a long cut that went from his left shoulder, down his plastron and almost to where his hips were. Don had stitched up the skin and had used some special plaster (a vet formula none the less) on the harder plastron. He had lost a lot of blood and had gotten a transfusion from Donatello, even though he himself hated needles just as much as everyone else.

Leo's golden eyes then flittered back to Raphael, his legs weing held stiff by a removable cast, removable because the skin under said cast was stitched up and Don would have to check on those every few hours even after Raphael awoke. Another long cut graced the red banded warrior's arm, stitched just as cleanly as everything else.

"You should go get some rest, Don," Leo said, his voice quiet but the leadery demand hard to miss.

"Yah, because you have gotten just as much sleep as me Leo." Don snapped back and then widened his eyes at his brother, surprising himself with how angry the reply sounded. Leo raised an eyebrow at his usually calm brother, but was not as surprised as Don himself. They were stressed, hurt, confused, and then stressed out even more.

"At least let me rewrap your arm, Don," Leo asked, his eyes looking sharply at the olive arm as the wrapping yet again fell loose because of the constant movement between the two unconscious brothers, and relieving irritated skin, the stitching that Leo had done still held tight luckily but the last thing they needed was for it to get infected. Don nodded and Leo made his way, quickly reattaching the delicate fabric to the arm before sitting back down.

"…I…" Don started, looking from one fallen brother to the next and back again, "… I am just… I just don't… I need to be here when they wake up…" When, not if, when.

Leo sighed quietly, already knowing that it was a loosing battle to try and rip his one conscience brother away from the other two unconscious ones and gave in, nodding that annoyingly slow nod again and made his way out of the room only to return with a plate of sandwiches and two glasses of water, offering a glass to Don who also took a sandwich and then sat back down, the plate sitting on the edge of Raph's bed.

"I'm worried too, Don."

* * *

_A few hours earlier_

"Someone's coming."

They heard the familiar sound of the two-towed ninja Tabi shoes tapping lightly against the tar-coated roof tops nearing, the alarmingly familiar, yet almost inaudible sound of a large number of bodies moving expertly through the sky, undetectable to the untrained eye and ear.

Raph cast Mike a smirk, who just grinned back while Ninja upon Ninja seemingly poured into view out of nowhere. It was obvious they both viewed this as play time, and Leo (for once) couldn't exactly blame them. For them, an attack from The Foot was childs play. They could be taken down with ease. The one advantage The Foot _did _have on them though was that they came in hordes, so it was never a fair fight. He was quite confident in his brother's abilities, and yet despite this, Leo couldn't help but feel that something was amiss.

The Leader stooped down on the ledge of the building as a few others crept up behind him, all hunched over with their swords drawn vexingly at their sides.

"Be cautious." Leo advised softly as he drew his katana with a loud '_schlish_' sound that made Raph's smirk grow even wider. Man, did love it when Leo got all cynical.

They fell into formation automatically, getting into their ready stances while The Foot also positioned themselves, a few extra stragglers suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

The Foot didn't frighten Don at all; it was more or less how they were clothed. Black and gray, how drab. The worst part was the masks that adorned each Ninja's face, completely canceling out any other features besides the eyes. They were very different from his own mask, which was colored purple and covered _only_ his eyes. It made them emotionless beings, it made them slaves to The Shredder, and they no longer had an identity- even when the mask was removed. He wondered about them, did they have families? Children? Did they have jobs? Or did they work for The Shredder alone? Did they yearn for something more, but were they terrified to reject The Clan? The Shredder generally took in homeless kids or gang-rejects/drop outs from the street and clothed them, poisoned and blinded them with lies and promises of a loving family, and trained them in the ways of Ninjitsu. He wondered how many of the Ninja standing in front of him were his age, he wondered if any of them had ever known a life outside The Foot.

The appointed Leader of the pact squared his shoulders and pushed off the lip of the building, taking a running lead, signifying that the battle was on.

The four brothers broke off individually at first, making sure to keep in close range just in case something went bad. Besides, if they all took them individually it wouldn't be so overwhelming. When they were younger, they often made this mistake, and usually found themselves all backed into a corner.

Even after Mikey kicked the Foot soldier square in the jaw, the guy kept coming at him, but now two others accompanied him. "Bad Foot Ninja, stay down, boy! Stay down!" He teased, continuing to badger his opponent. Mikey's head bobbed back a little bit in surprise as he deflected an oncoming attack with his forearm. His next assailant sent a high blow to the left side of his face, which he quickly parried with the outer edge of his left hand, countering with a knuckle jab to the doji-clad man's stomach. Mikey grinned softly and pulled his nun chucks from his belt, swinging them in an old-western gun-toting style years of Bonanza reruns had taught him, before blowing on the end like a pistol and sticking it back in his belt.

During all this, Don had been so busy averting a mini fleet of Ninja he hadn't seen the assailant sneak up behind him, making a quick slice, leaving Don with nicely sized gash on his bicep that quickly started gushing blood. With a loud cry, he clamped a shaky hand over the wound, trying to stop the blood from seeping down his arm. _How did I not see that?_ He lividly thought to himself. He was, however, able to rip his hand away from the wound long enough to bash the Ninja over the head with his Bo, hoping with every ounce of his being that he shattered that dullards jaw. With a sigh he sunk to his knees feeling a bit dizzy, although he felt instant relief wash over him when the bleeding began to slow, knowing it would dry up quickly but might possibly require stitches. Leo knelt by him for a moment to make sure he was okay, giving him a thorough look-over, but Donny insisted he wasn't seriously injured and that he could continue fighting.

"Move yer shell, Mikey!" Raph shoved him out of the way of an attacking Foot Ninja, bearing his teeth with a threatening growl. Luckily, most of the blow from the sword was absorbed by his shell, which sent crippling waves back up into the sword wielder arms. With Mikey out of harms way he braced himself and, being close enough, turned, delivering an uppercut into the mans stomach which allowed his grip on his sword to loosen. Raphael's elbow shot out and connected with the gloved hand, causing the user's sword to be thrown a few feet away. Once the Ninja was disarmed (still in shock), Raph took a step back, delivering a swift side kick to the masked mans neck complete with a front snap to the solar plexus that would make even Leo beam with pride— If he hadn't been too busy getting his shell waxed to notice, anyway.

When Leo heard his shell click against Donny's, he looked over his shoulder and gave a quick nod. Don nodded back, seeming to understand. In an instant, Don had flipped completely over Leo using his Bo staff for leverage, landing behind his brother's attacker, who turned, confoundedly, trying to follow the lighter turtle with his eyes. Don swept low at the mans ankles and before he was even near the ground, the other side of Don's Bo staff had caught him in the shoulder, sending him spiraling into the rooftop. He winced slightly at the stretching of his skin and felt himself fight the urge to faint. The second Don had flipped over Leo; Leo turned and advanced towards Don's previous attacker, obviously throwing the man horribly off balance, as he had intended. He slashed at the Foot Ninja with a single katana, and then went straight into a side snap kick to his ribs.

"—_In_coming!" A rather animated voice called playfully from directly behind Leo, who expertly eluded the body of a Foot Ninja that sailed over his head and took out three other soldiers. It was at that moment that Leo felt his heart sink, because there, hidden in the looming shadows that covered a run-down billboard stood four foreboding figures. He instantly recognized the four shadowy figures, and, fear gripping his heart, he turned to warn his brothers who hadn't yet discovered who had been watching them for who knew how long.

"Fall back!" Leo shouted out amongst the carnage, hoping to make a hasty retreat and possibly outrun them, although he knew in the back of his mind from past encounters that it was nearly impossible. He heard a very disconcerted Michelangelo question why the remaining Foot Ninja had either taken off or retreated to the edge of the building where they raptly roosted themselves, like some type of unholy ninja-gargoyle statues.

All three brothers head's shot up unanimously upon hearing such an unusual order coming from Leo. It wasn't like him to call a withdraw. Mikey wasn't even sure if he had _ever_ heard Leo call for them to fall back before.

When Raphael no longer saw his brothers Bo staff creating a pile of Foot Ninja at his feet, he met Leo's gaze and followed it to a decrepit billboard a roof away. Four wraithlike figures stood perfectly erect, weapons held a level that to anyone completely unaware of the sheer force and power these four held wouldn't be very threatening at all. The way they presented themselves almost suggested that they expected this to be over quite soon, that they were not anticipating the fight at all, that maybe they might even grow uninterested. It always amused and severely irked him how their tattered crimson capes fluttered in the breeze so delicately, and yet they struck so fiercely. Even Raph enjoyed a good scrap, but he didn't exactly jump for joy when the Elite butted into his business. It was no longer fun and games, now it was a matter of life or death.

After what seemed like an eternity of stillness, the four tyrants leapt effortlessly onto the rooftop and were charging even before their feet had touched the ground. The four brothers, despite hearing Leo's orders, hadn't nary a second to even _contemplate_ a retreat. Two took the lead while the other two took the rear, and when the leading team got as close as possible they vanished in a cloud of gray smoke that momentarily blinded Leo and Don. Thankfully, they weren't naive enough to think that they'd just up and left, and they were prepared for the two remaining attackers who seemed to slip through the smoke, weapons drawn.

"I almost _wish_ we got the TechNinja's this time." Mikey yelped loudly, just barely dodging the blade of one of the Elite Ninja that Don had so enthusiastically avoided.

"Yeah. Tell me about it!" Don concurred, quickly knocking the Elite Ninja's weapon out of his hands, gripping onto his cape tightly. He instantly rocked back onto his shell (this move completed correctly could gather enough inertia to literally catapault a human body), thrusting his feet into the man's torso, hurtling him directly into Leo, who offered a swift kick to the head. That didn't keep him down for long, though. He rolled when he hit the ground and hopped right back onto his feet, this time rushing towards Raphael and, on the way, bending down and scooping up his blade by the grip.

"Raph!" Leo shouted once more, he being the first to see the second umbrageous figure appear behind his red clad brother. Mikey shot a dismayed glance over at Leo upon hearing his voice, but if Raph had heard Leo, he wasn't giving any indication. Noticing Leo was a little too busy to 'save the day' at the moment, Mikey did a series of flips over to his older brother and flung his nun chucks out protectively, intending to block the attack meant for Raphael. They wrapped around the Elite Ninja's weapon long enough to keep him from lashing out at Raph, but, now having to deal with Mikey, he jerked his weapon back with all his might, causing Mikey to hit the ground not too far away.

"Mikey's hit—!" Raph bellowed before Mikey even _knew_ he was hit. Raph deflected a powerful kick meant for his lower thigh, delivering a punch of his own that sent an Elite throttling towards the ledge of the building. He had just enough time left to watch Mikey completely abandon his nun chucks and seize his head with one hand, swaying, desperately trying to right himself before another attack commenced. He blinked hard a few times as if he didn't completely understand he'd been struck. One minute he was retaliating, his nun chucks flinging around wildly, the next thing he knew, he felt the air being stomped out of his chest and his head strike something big and hard, which turned out to be a brick wall. Don, realizing he was the only one that didn't have his hands full at the moment, made a mad dash over to his little brother.

"Mikey? Let me see, Mikey." Don grabbed Mikey's shoulder in an attempt to soothe him, and although Mikey felt the panic welling up inside his chest at having taken such a huge blow to the head, at first he simply shoved Don away. Don's fingers just barely grazed his arm in a much gentler fashion this time. He felt the acidy knot in his stomach loosen a bit as Mike shakily faced him, his eyes wide with fright. Don had lectured him enough on blows to the head to know that a number of things could happen (internal bleeding, brain damage, aneurysm), and Mikey having a very suggestive and colorful imagination coupled with him being a bit of a hypochondriac didn't exactly help the matter any either.

Mikey shook his head slowly, sounding very much like a child. "I don't feel good, Don." He puled softly, starting feel himself grow lightheaded, which he knew was telltale sign of a concussion, and knowing this, he struggled to the best of his ability to stay conscious. Don hadn't had a chance to finish checking his younger brother out because at that very moment, everything fell deathly still, and it quickly captured his attention. Screaming, swords clanking, grunting and shrieks were normal to hear during battle, but absolute silence? Glancing over to Leo for guidance, he was shocked to find Leo kneeling on the ground in front of one of the Elite, shuddering and gasping for breath.

He had only torn his eyes away from a weakening Michelangelo for a second, but it was a second he knew deep down that he would never forgive himself for. The distinct sound of steel slicing into skin and muscle was enough to make him cringe, and, although he seriously was terrified to look, he knew he had to. When he finally turned, he watched his younger brother hunch over, unmoving.

"Mikey?" Don rasped, stepping around his brother. When he saw Mikey holding his hands tightly around his plastron, completely soaked in blood he felt his knees buckle. His hands were shaking profusely but he managed to pry one of Mikey's hands away, gaping down at the large wound that went from his shoulder clear down to his hip. Don shook his head in disbelief, and when he raised his eyes, he was met with the wide terrified eyes of his sibling, pleading with him, asking why this had happened to him, and for once in his life, Donatello did not have an answer. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he watched Mike sway to the side, his eyes rolling up into the back of his head. Mikey laid perfectly still and for an instant Don feared the worst, although he was able to find a pulse, and although his mind screamed at him to grab Mike and run, all he could manage to do was shift his little brother's head into his lap. He felt completely useless.

Leo ripped his head out of his arms which were just moments ago cradling it so gently, trying to catch his breath as quickly as possible before he was killed on the spot. He hated being brought to his knees. He caught sight of Don kneeling on the ground, and it wasn't until he saw the orange bandana tails that he had pieced together what had happened. He had been so distracted he hadn't even noticed the Elite Ninja kneeling next to him. He did, however, notice the blade being shoved into his gracilis (a muscle that resides along your hamstring), extracting a blood-chilling scream from the blue-banded turtle.

Don shuddered again, his grip on Mikey tightening when he heard Leo scream so savagely. He must have been in a great deal of pain, because Don could only recall ever hearing Leo cry out like that maybe twice in his lifetime. He swung his gaze over to Leo, and when he watched him dislodge the sword with another loud grunt he felt his stomach churn once more.

"Raph!" Leo's sudden shout made Don reel his head over in the direction of Raphael. Sadly, Leo's efforts had been in vain. Raph continued to lash out as his attackers with a wearing drive, and deplorably, his retaliatory efforts were quickly drained when one of the Elite took him completely by surprise. He suddenly saw a dark figure glide out in front of him as slow as ever, as if the world had just stopped turning. He could make out two fiery, torrid eyes staring back at him from under the shadow of the coned bamboo hat that suddenly didn't seem as humorous as it once had been. He couldn't see the mouth, but he was sure if he ripped that stupid mask off he'd find a twisted sneer, far dottier than anything he could ever manage.

When Don heard Raphael's sai hit the ground with a deafening '_ting_', he turned, still supporting an unconscious and severely bleeding Michelangelo's head in his lap. Raphael's shell struck the ground, a loud scraping noise emitting followed by a series of thunderous animalistic screams and curses that would make a even a Sailor blush.

Leo and Don reeled their heads around when they heard a faint voice from below murmuring something that sounded like:

"_Over there... I think it's... punk kids fightin' or somethin'..."_

Leo was suddenly aware of the blue and red lights blinking below them, casting flickering shadows as the lights rotated. He crawled over to Raphael, who had positioned himself up against the edge of the building, his breathing erratic, one eye screwed shut tightly in pain. He was bleeding copiously, and Leo stared on in awe as he neared his brother, wondering how Raphael was even still conscious.

When he glanced over his shoulder, anticipating another attack while he was down, he wasn't very surprised to find that the Elite had vanished already.

"Gotta go, Raph." He whispered, attempting to sling an arm around Raphael's midsection which was nearly impossible since his shell got in the way so much. Raph winced when Leo tried to move him, and pushed him away, but Leo insisted that they had to _go now_, that the police were here. Leo's eyes searched for Don, wondering if Mikey was giving him this much trouble, and then he remembered, with a grimace, that Mikey hadn't been moving at all the last time he had laid eyes on him.

"Leo…yer…yer bleedin' Leo." Raph replied in a surprised tone, his eyes widening as he reached out to touch the stab wound in his brother's leg. It figured that even though Raph was sitting in a puddle of his own blood (which would have rendered a less stubborn man/turtle unconscious), he still managed to find time during all this confusion to point out the obvious. Leo told him he was well aware that he was bleeding, and also that the police were below and that he had to be quiet so they could get him out of there without being seen, but Raph hadn't heard any of it because when Leo tried to move him the second time he blacked out.

"Don?" Leo quietly called out as he neared the edge, somehow managing to maintain a steady grip on very brawny younger brother, even on a bad leg. He could see the lights below still flashing as an angered older man waved his cane about angrily, and Leo couldn't help but wonder if the old man had just called the cops for some sort of attention, claiming to have seen or heard something— although he supposed they had been a bit louder than usual.

"Let's go home, Don."

Don stepped up next to Leo, Mikey slung over his good shoulder, gripping Mikey's disgarded nun chucks in his free hand as he sprung into the shadows, Leo not too far behind.

* * *

_Present_

Donny carefully pulled the tube from Raphael's throat, going slowly as not to damage anything as the long plastic medical equipment slid out. Once it slipped from Raph's dark green lips Donatello was pleased to hear his brother cough, a effect that pulling said tube out had on many and it was a good sign; his body was self aware, trying to cleanse itself of the saliva that had built up while the tube sat there in the way. Mikey had not made a sound when he had pulled his out, and it had worried Don, but he was happy that Raphael had managed to do what Mike had not.

The beeping from both brothers had gotten stronger over the last half hour, both still mirroring each other in a beautiful beat as if they were twin drums. Picking up the tube he placed it in the sink that he had put in the infirmary a long time ago, something that was used time and time again, and made a mental note to clean it out later. Moving to the left he opened up a cupboard and pulled out two new IV bags full of liquid and skirted back to his patients.

First he took of Raph's old and nearly empty bag, taking the small thin tube and reattaching it to the new one, and then placing the new filled bag on the hook. He went to Mikey and repeated the process, and proceeded to throw both bags in the garbage.

Don moved around and about the room, checking on Raphael's cleanly stitched up legs. He had been so worried when he saw the extent of the wound for the first time, the slices going close enough to the bone that the femur of the left leg actually had a gouge in it. Sewing up the wounds had been hard for he also had to reattach veins and tendons, his laptop (now spattered in blood, he had been too worried for his brother that, for once, he did not clean his machine at the first chance he got) by his side and contently looking at it for reference. He had been so so _so_ worried that he would do something wrong, that he would make Raphael lame for the rest of his life, and now found himself pleased with his work. Don would not know, however, how well he did until Raph healed enough to show him, and the waiting was already killing him (it had only been a few hours, too!).

While he had worked on Raph's legs he talked Leo through patching up Mikey's extensive cut wound. Leonardo had been able to sew up the shoulder and the little bit of leg that had been nicked with ease, and then Don told him how to use the plaster (making it, how to apply it and set it so it would work just right) and soon enough Leo had had Mikey all patched up as well.

They both had gotten a few transfusions, Raph more so then Mikey for he had a lost a lot of blood with his legs nearly sliced in half, but not by much. Luckily Don had started to keep a collection of blood taken from them at various times in his little fridge, and so had blood ready to give, but they ran out of that quickly and so Don and Leo started using their own blood to revive their brothers. It had worked, for the time being.

Leonardo entered the infirmary again, the 6th time in five minutes, and did not even have to ask Don how they were doing for he already knew the question was coming and got on his way to answering it, "Raph's off life support. Both are doing fine. Now we wait." His response was clipped and almost mechanical, having said most it so many times he was tired of the words.

Nonetheless Leo's eyes lit up slightly when he heard that Raph was supporting himself on his own now, and walked into the room, sat down and looked at Donny for a moment, "Then we'll wait."

* * *

_Haha first chapter done take that_

Bow chika wow wow.

_Please tell us if you liked how we worked together_

Or if it totally annoyed you and you never ever want to read our crap again xD

_If that's your thoughts then please leave the room. I do have four ninja turtles that I can sic on you!_

We aren't in a room, doofus. We're text on a screen submitted into a documenting system that publishes out work on the world wide web for our viewers to read. D

… _stop outsmarting me, it hurts._

_So anyway, please leave a review & tell us how we're doing, we would greatly appreciate it! oh yah, chapter two is already written and going through some spell checking and revising so expect that up in a day or two!  
_


	2. Chapter 2

_Do you have any idea how long we waited to shove this up? TWO WHOLE DAYS, because stupid FF was being all ornery at us, did you guys know about the two day rule? Someone should have told us…_

I completely forgot about it. : ( And THEN to make matters worse, TAUNI was all, "lol we can post it at 10." then when we went to post it, she was all, "ZOMG I MIXED UP THE TIMES WE STILL HAVE 2 MORE HOURS!" yeah. SO DON'T TALK TO US ABOUT "OMG NEXT CHAPTER PLZ" xD JK.

_Here's chapter two. Written in two parts.  
_

First part is by chanmui04, second by Tauni

**Special thanks to badlevel50percent for mentioning us in their story,'Escalate', which you should all go read! **

**And also, thanks to everyone who has reviewed us so far! We're really glad you guys seem to like our writing so far.**

_Enjoy!_

* * *

An ever vigil Leonardo sat in a chair stationed by the door, this being the best position to keep a constant eye on his two younger siblings. Although his arms had been folded tightly over his plastron and his head had been bowed, and even though every muscle in his body ached with a fiery vengeance, his mind was far from inactive. He wondered if sleep would ever find his wary mind again after witnessing what horrors had been unleashed on his family a few hours prior. _It was just supposed to be a simple run. Nothing bad was supposed to happen. Nothing was supposed to happen at all! At least_, he thought_, I was able to talk Donny into getting some rest, even if it's only an hour. He's sure going to need it for when Mike and Raph wake up._

He'd lost track of when Don had careened out of the infirmary completely worn-out, although he wanted to say 20 minutes, it felt like four hours had passed since he'd last seen his astute younger brother hovering between each of the beds, delivering each victim absolute care to the best of his abilities. It had almost become kind of the norm to see Don positioned between both beds, and when Leo raised his head and there was no Don, he felt deeply unsettled. It was as if they had given up, and now they were waiting for the unthinkable.

A short time after Leo had begun sifting through the area of the infirmary for his brother, Donatello, he caught sight of something peculiar going on at one of his brothers' beds. Upon noticing this, he glanced over at Michelangelo who continued to slumber, and rose from his chair.

Raph's eyes rolled around behind tired lids for a few more seconds before dim light found it's way into the back of his skull, causing him to recoil into the cool white sheets that surrounded him. He gave it a second try and, upon noticing the little white electrodes dotting his chest, his eyes speculatively followed the wires to the machine, his heart rate quickening as confusion and terror encroached his mind, which caught Leo's attention immediately. He materialized by his brother's beside in an instant, giving Raph, who was still a little logy quite a start.

"Don't touch, Raph." Leo whispered gently, taking Raphael's hand and lowering it away from the wires, trying to remain poised and settled on the outside, while a tornado of emotions raged on inside his mind. Raph's brows knit together and he turned a groggy eye towards his brother.

"Leo?" He asked in an unsure manner, his eyes roaming the confines of his bed slowly, carefully looking over one leg and then the other. He seemed to analyze them for a few minutes, and Leo waited until his eyes left his legs to say anything.

"You're back at the lair."

A moment of silence before: "How long I been out?" More confident, more Raph-like.

"Couple of hours." He replied in a tight-lipped fashion, trying his hardest to smile, but Raph could see the hurt and uncertainty in his eyes. Something more must have happened, he concluded.

A moment of processing before a slow nod. For a short while he was silent, until he realized that he could hear the steady beeping of not one, but_ two_ heart monitors. His legs felt like they were on fire but he oppressed the urge to reach down and actually touch them, knowing full well that a very irate Leonardo would smack his hand away and tell him not to contaminate the clean bandages. Instead a low groan emitted from inside his throat as he attempted to twist his midsection over the side of the bed, trying to view the other figure in the bed next to him. Leo put a gentle hand on Raph's shoulder and lightly forced him onto his back again, surprised to find Raph only resisted for a moment or two. He had expected his madcap of a brother to rip out of his grip and possibly tumble from the bed, further injuring himself.

"Hows yer leg?" He asked after a few moments, to which Leo just shrugged and replied 'Fine'.

Another few moments of silence.

"He wake up at all yet?"

At that very moment, an obviously flustered Donatello stormed in, interrupting them. Leo assumed it wouldn't be too long before Don found his way to the bedside's of their injured brothers again, so he wasn't too stunned when he caught sight of his purple-banded brother.

Don had his head bowed down contritely and was shaking his head and hands apologetically, knowing he had disobeyed a direct order, but hoping Leo would listen to logic. "Hey, Leo, look you should just switch me spots I really can't sleep under all this— Raph?!" His expression changed immediately and a relieved smile began to dominate his facial features as he wandered over to his beside. "Wow, he's awake? When did this happen?"

Raph stirred, attempting to answer. He got as far as opening his mouth to speak when:

"Just a few minutes ago." Leo answered for him.

Raph blinked when he noticed Donny was looking at Leo, not him, and shut his mouth, quite irritated.

"How do you feel, Raph?" Don asked expectantly, actually _looking_ at him this time.

He hesitated a moment just in case Leo was going to answer that for him, too. He hated when they talked _around_ him, as if he were mentally challenged, or still unconscious, as if he couldn't answer for himself. Sure, he was drugged up (usually he hated to be sedated or put on any type of medication, but given how excruciating the pain was when he was ON them, he decided not to breach the subject with Donny), but that didn't mean he couldn't answer for himself.

Raph shrugged a shoulder, instantly regretting it when he felt the skin on his arm stretch, skin that was far too tight. Skin that had stitches in it. _Great_. He grimaced for a minute and then he seemed to unwind a little more, leaning back into his bed. He stared down at his legs, feeling his eyes sting, although he knew no tears would come. Nothing could be worse than knowing you woke up and your little brother hadn't. He would have liked to pull a knee up and rest an elbow on it, but he assumed that would be impossible as he had been trying to wriggle his toes during his conversation with Leo but couldn't tell if they had moved at all or not_. Probably numb_, he thought to himself as he shut his eyes, his fingers roughly kneading into his shoulder.

"Raph, listen. I know you love to ignore me and all, but it's very important that you don't touch or try to move your legs just yet. Your legs are stitched up about 50 percent right now and I don't want to risk—"

"Why ain't he up yet, Don?" He jerked his head over to Mikey in the other bed, cutting Donny off.

The sight of his younger brother just lying there was enough to make Raph ill. It wasn't fair, Mikey looked like he was just sleeping, Raph thought, _but what if he doesn't wake up? _He didn't see a plastic tube sticking out of the side of his brother's mouth, although he did notice the slightly-out-of-date-but-still-effective breathing machine off to the left of his brother's bed, which, he gathered, had meant at one point Mikey had been unable to breathe for himself. He noticed one by his bed, too, but he really wasn't too worried about it.

Raph turned a wide eye to Don when he realized he didn't hear him slip into Doctor mode, fearing the worst. If there was no prognosis, that could only mean… He felt his stomach drop into his knees as he turned once again to see Mikey, his own heart monitor beeping steadily while Raph's escaladed again.

"Raph, he's okay." Leo replied gently. Raph felt a strong hand grip his forearm and he exhaled in relief. He stared at Mikey for a few moments until he was able to see the steady rise and fall of his chest. He was breathing. _You better be breathin', knucklehead. Ya know I'd go crazy without cha, right?_

"He sustained a closed head injury, which basically means that it didn't penetrate the skull. He doesn't seem to be showing signs of any internal bruising, although, he did take a nasty blow to the head." He noticed Leo giving him a particularly troubled look. All this medical information not making much sense to him. Don was sure the only parts Leo really understood were the_ bad _parts. "His vitals peaked on their own, though, which is an excellent sign. That bruise" —He indicated with his hand, trying to sound a bit more optimistic— "_Looks_ pretty gnarly, but I don't see any swelling around the face or the back of the neck, so I assume we're safe. For now."

"Should we have let him go to sleep?" Leo asked dutifully, still lingering by Raph's bedside, who was attempting to pull himself into a sitting position (he stopped after an adamant glance from Don), feeling the blood rushing to his head from the scare he had put himself through, thinking his younger brother had been dead.

Don sighed, flustered yet again. He knew Leo meant well, but the constant badgering of one sibling while focusing all your time and effort on another was simply tiring. "Well it's not like I can actually wake him, Leo. It would be been better if he could have stayed awake until I was able to further examine him but..." He trailed off, shuddering at the reoccurring image of Mikey looking up at him with those doleful blue eyes, clutching his stomach. He shook the images from his head. It marred him greatly to see his little brother in such a weak, vulnerable state. He was used to seeing a little brother sprawled out in obnoxious positions on the couch (or other completely random surfaces around the lair— tables, chairs, kitchen counters, etc) while he 'logged some z's'. But no matter how many times it happened, he didn't think he would ever get used to seeing Mikey lay there, so still. So uncharacteristically quiet that it stung far worse than his own wounds.

Both of his brother's gazes turned to Raphael when they heard the deep sigh that had escaped from his nose. The pain medication he had been fighting for the few moments of consciousness was starting to resurface and weakly take hold on his mind again. He sent a lazy glance over to Don who just smiled sheepishly, knowing how hard it was for his brother to accept sedatives. He simply lifted his hand and groaned a response, something that sounded like '_needa drink_' (which Leo chose to ignore, not even bothering to send Raph a disapproving glance), limply waving his wrist. Don smiled lightly and took this as initiative that Raphael wanted more, which was actually quite a shock. While Don administered a colorless liquid directly into his brother's IV (Don informed them that even though Raphael would disagree, it was unwise to try to take pills orally while being this drowsy to begin with), Leo made his way over to Mikey's bed once more, rubbing his arm comfortingly.

It wasn't like Don would miss anything (and it wasn't like Leo would be any the wiser, either), and it wasn't as if Mike's condition had changed. He hadn't gotten any better or any worse. Leo almost _wished _Mike would delve into either of the directions, just so he would know that Mike _would_ change. Just to know that he wouldn't stay in this vegetative state. What if Don had miscalculated, what if Mike really should have stayed awake? What would happen if he didn't wake up?

Raph watched the entire time as Leo inspected Mikey, feeling the relief start to take hold of his mind, feeling a new level of numbness claim his limbs. It angered him to see Leo bent over poor Mike like he was on his deathbed. If he wanted to be leaderly, now would have been an excellent time. Don checked to make sure he was reacting to the sedative well once more, and then when Raph waved him off with a flagging groan, he walked over and tugged at Leo's arm lightly. Leo shook his head, telling Don that he wanted to stay, and Don suggested that they all should sleep here tonight, that he'd let Leo sleep first.

"You need it more than I do." Leo contended.

Don just sighed and shook his head. Of course Leo would deny he needed the sleep, claiming Don (who'd been awake just as long as Leo, although he did suppose he worked a bit more) needed it more. There really was no point in arguing with Leo this late, though, he decided. He tugged his mask away from his eyes and rubbed at his temples while taking refuge on the third bed which sat right next to Mikey's. It had been obscured from view by a jury-rigged curtain, which he carefully drew back now, not wanting to miss anything that might possibly happen while he (didn't) sleep. Leo retired to the chair near the doorway once again at this point. A few moments later Don was curled up on top of the white, neatly made bed, trying his hardest to deactivate his brain. After a while, the steady beat of the heart monitors which he felt his sanity depended on lulled him into a dreamless sleep.

With Don attempting to rest and Leo completely unmindful at this point, Raph struggled to open his eyes. Every time he managed, they'd come crashing down with an even greater force. It seemed odd to him that a simple task like opening his eyes could take so much out of him, even being drugged up, but after about four tries, he managed to turn his head to the side. He was finally able to get a good look at Mikey. He hadn't seen him properly since the beginning of the battle with the Foot Ninja and he scowled when he saw the damage done to his sibling. Raph could make out the glistening of Vaseline on his brother's plastron around the large line of ugly black stitches that he feared were the only thing from keeping Mikey's intestines from spilling out onto the bed. They were tight, and the skin around them was puffy and ugly looking. He was surprised to find that the wound was worse than he thought, realizing that the stitches traveled from his shoulder, to his plastron, and although they vanished under the sheet, he could see where the sheets had become clear from absorbing the Vaseline, which could only mean one thing. More stitches.

Raph watched the steady rise and fall of his brother's chest, wincing every time he saw his plastron expand, wondering if Mikey was in pain. He was used to seeing his brothers in these beds, although not as often as himself, he mused. He was used to seeing Don stitch up their wounds, and he was used to seeing his brothers bandaged up. But in situations like this, these were the times when his defenses would lower, and these were the times he detested. He could feel the panic fluttering around in his chest again as the questions he'd been to afraid to ask surfaced again, questions that didn't even have to do with the current situation. What would he do if one of his brothers died? How could he go on without them?

In his own mind, they were all pieces to a puzzle that created one being, and he imagined that if one of the pieces to the puzzle were missing, the person would be incomplete. _We are incomplete_, he reminded himself gravely, thinking of his beloved Master for a second. They might have been operable, but they were incomplete, and that was what was important. What if he never told Leo how he felt, and one day, as unimaginable as it seemed, he was slain? What if Don got sick? What if he died, or was also slain? Who would he confide in when things got their worst? Who would pull him back, force him into reality again when Leo wasn't around to? What if Mikey died in that bed tonight? What if he never heard that obnoxious laugh again?

He could feel his heart start to race again which gained the attention of Leo, his head bolting up and shooting towards Mikey, then swinging over to Raph, who by this point was hoisted up on his elbows, his neck quite slack, his head pointed towards Mikey's bed. He growled lightly. He wanted to rip those damn electrodes from his chest. He didn't need Leo knowing information he didn't voluntarily offer. Finally when he felt he could no longer hold this position he fell back into the bed with a grunt, sleep finally claiming him.

* * *

Nothing. No feeling, no temperature, light or dark, not even color although it seemed to appear black. It was not hard or fuzzy, it was not deep or shallow, it was simply what it was; nothing.

Slowly, however, feelings and sounds and thoughts penetrated that nothingness, taking away the dark and putting in small pinpricks of light until, after some time, it was blinding.

The first feeling that came across his mind was a horrible pain in his northern regions, a pounding ugly pain that was eating away at the nothing and letting a excruciating feeling take over. Pinching at what little conscience he had managed to maintain and pulling it further out of the darkness, awakening him little by little.

After what seemed to be hours another pain flared up, long and deep going from high to low. It was burning him, feeling like some sort of hot acid that was slowly seeping into his system. The pain reached down and, from where his mind had pulled his conscience out form the darkness, started to destroy the darkness itself, ripping it apart in quick vicious swipes of its pain ridden teeth and slashing the dark with its angry claws.

Slowly other much smaller cuts and abrasions showed their light, burning what was left of the tattered darkness that he had once held onto so dearly, singeing away the scraps and fibers. Light had prevailed, burning bright with pain acting like gasoline and a pounding headache its oxygen. Conscience was almost fully awakened, blossoming like a ugly weed in the light.

A low moan was caught by his ears, though it was more of a feeling as it vibrated through his jaw bone. A strangled thought told him that it was he who was moaning, but another withered thought told him that that was not possible; that sound had been rather far away and whenever he had moaned before it was much louder.

A warm hand was placed on his cheek, and even that felt miles away, like a fly landing on your leg. He felt like swatting the hand away, making the annoyed feeling leave for it was pulling him even further into conscience then before, but could not lift his hand high enough to do; no, instead he only twitched his fingers in agitation, something that someone must have seen for the next thing he knew warm hands where also placed around that hand, rubbing the fingers gently.

Another moan, a louder and more present moan. And this time another sound, a soft and worried voice, "…._ike_…" it came, repeatedly, begging him, pleading him to respond back. Another moan, softer this time, as he tried to ignore the voice and find what darkness he could and trying to warp himself in it, trying to escape from the light and the sounds and the feelings and the pain. The pain; oh how it ate at him…

"Michelangelo," came a soft but demanding voice, a voice that he could not refuse, a voice that he felt compelled to follow even in the pain and the stress and the worry. A voice he knew was Leonardo's.

Slowly he cracked open his eyes, letting REAL light flood his system. Oh, his head hurt soooo much. A green and blue blob floated in his vision, but was only that; a blob. A blip on the screen, a extremely fuzzy blip with no define edges or other colors. He couldn't see eyes or a mouth, he could not see any brown that would be the knee and elbow pads. Just a blob, a fuzzy and unfocused blob.

"Mikey…?" Came another voice, soft and concerned; a stark contrast to the demanding and calm one beforehand. Turning his head and straining his eyes he caught site of a olive and purple blob, just as fuzzy as the other. The purple strip was so thin that it was almost lost in everything else, almost swallowed up by the olive and fuzz that he feared it would soon disappear.

Why was his vision so funny? What happened? Oh, he _hurt_… Oh wait… he hurt. Pain meant injury, right? And injury usually lead to some sort of medication… yeah, Don had said a few times that meds totally messed with their system sometimes. And that pain crap he gives could be a doozy for him, something that Mike had never reacted well to no matter the injury, usually causing a stomach ache (Though nothing like what he was feeling now). Donny boy must have given him something powerful to knock his vision whacky.

"…. Don…?" Whoa, was that his voice? Surely it wasn't, it was much too rough and strained and _painful_. It was foreign to him, like a new person with a accent you had never heard before. He cringed, closing his eyes and leaning further back into the softness behind him (_Pillow_, his muddled mind helpfully provided him). A round of rough coughs echoed throughout the room as his body tried to clean itself of the strange voice, and a calming hand found itself on his shoulder, rubbing lightly.

As he coughed a pain that had been momentarily forgotten flared up again making him take a sharp breath in that echoed sharply in the room. His body stopped moving, tensing up as the wave of pain that had crashed his system slowly (Why so damn slowly?) resided, withdrawing back into the deep abyss that it came from. As the pain pulled away his mind was freed enough from the feeling to hear, "—key, Mikey? Mike, please, open your eyes, look at me, tell me what's going on, Mike! Oh, Mikey, please, look at me damnit!"

Donatello's voice was no longer quiet but starting to get louder and louder, trying and succeeding to rouse him from his stupor, "Mikey! Open yo— There you go, look at me Mike…" Slowly his eyes slid open looking again at the blob in front of him, unable to focus on the form he knew was his brother. Don's voice had grown soft again, coxing him gently from the pain.

"Donnn…?" He asked quietly, his voice sounding more like his then before but still had a hard ugly edge to it. "Don, it hurts…."

"What hurts, Mikey?" Came his brothers gentle voice yet again, and a warm hand was placed back on his cheek, scaring him momentarily as he had not seen it coming.

"M' head n' m' chest…" Mikey found himself leaning into that hand a little, even though all he could see was a blob in front of him and ending outside of his vision, a arm perhaps, but he could not see lines or shapes. What he thought was an arm that led to the hand on his cheek could have been a olive green thick stick, he had no indication that it might not be.

"Yeah, you ripped some stitches and I need to reattach some plaster, one second and I'll do that, ok?" Mikey felt himself nod and saw the blob move up and down as his eyes moved with his head, more of a blur now then before.

Don grabbed a needle and thread and looked back at Mikey's small form as it lay stiff in the bed. Something was wrong, so horribly wrong. How Mikey acted when they reached out for him, flinching as if he had no idea that it was there. He looked at Leo who sat beside Mikey, and after a quick moment Leo looked up to Donny's eyes, his concern mirroring Don's, he looked back down at Mikey, at his eyes, and then to Don again, silently asking '_What is wrong with his vision?_'

Yes, those eyes, once so bright and clear, were unfocused and did not look Don in the eye. At first Donatello had excused it as the last effects of being unconscious and wounded were still showing their colors but by now he would have expected some improvement, some clearing, some focusing. But nothing had changed, Mikey was still the same…

Mike saw the blob return and felt his shoulder pierced and re-pierced by a needle, but the pain was nothing to his head and the pervious pain he had felt in his chest, now just a throbbing annoyance. "Donny… How much did you give me?" He groaned, his voice still strange but getting better with every word.

"None at all, Mikey, why?" The alarm continued to build.

"…Why cant I see you then…?"

"…You cant see me at all, Mike?" Don tensed up, his eyes darting to Leo for a brief moment and then to Raph who sat sleeping on the side before traveling to Mikey once more.

"No, I see you its just not… _you_." Mikey finally let out, his oh so eloquent self showing its true colors. After another questioning by Don he tried to clarify, "Your just a… a…. fuzzy blob…"

Don tried to keep fear and panic away from his voice, not wanting to scare his brother, "Has that how're your vision has been this whole time, Mikey?" Apparently he did not succeed.

"What's wrong Donny, why cant I see, what happened?" Mikey felt panic rise in his blood and started breathing quicker, sending sharp pains throughout his chest with every breath. A beeping he had not paid attention to before started to go faster as his heart raced.

"Mike, calm down, breath slower, shh," Leo's voice broke through his panic attack and he found himself, for once, ignoring the commanding voice, diving deeper into panic and despair before Leo's voice sounded throughout the room again, "Don, get something to calm him down, he's tearing more stitches!!"

"I'm looking, Leo!"

Their voices, now loud again, along with plastic clashing to the ground as Don rummaged through his cabinet looking for a sedative was loud enough to awake a sleeping Raphael and his voice, groggy from pain meds and the after effects of sleep, reached Mikey's ears even through the pounding of his blood.

"Th'hell's going on—_Mikey_!… Mikey, you a'rite…? Mike?!" The joy melted from his face, replaced by terror. Something was wrong.

Only voices penetrated Michelangelo's mind now, vision was nothing but ugly colors mostly consisting of blackness once more.

"Don't you dare try to get up, Raph!" Don, pestered and concerned.

"Whats goin on wit Mikey? Whats happenin' to 'im, Don?" Raph, angry and worried.

"Stay down, Raphael! Or we _will_ put you in restraints!" Leo, commanding (as always). Even though Mikey could not feel it and was far from aware of it Leo had wrapped his strong arms around his panicked body, trying to restrain him enough so he would not further aggravate his injuries.

Don's voice was closer now, right next to him in fact, "Keep him still, Leo, can you hold his arm? …. There…"

Things were quickly falling back into darkness, pushed onward by whatever Don had given him.

"Shh, Mikey, calm down, that's it, shhh," Leo, holding him tight and cooing him softly, rocking him and fourth as he was trapped in nothingness once more.

Mikey soon became limp in Leo's arm, the beeping of his heart steady and calm, back to a normal place. Gently Leo withdrew his arms and laid Mike back until his head touched the pillow and his shell was back in place. With his one hand never leaving Mikey's shoulder he looked back up to Don, eyes flashing with worry, "What just happened there, Don?" Although his voice was stressed and close to rude neither brother took offense to it, both of them stunned after what had just happened to their youngest.

"Stress, maybe? He was pretty calm at first, his body could have just realized how injured it was and went into shock?" Don was shifting through his thoughts, trying to figure out what he had just seen, "Maybe… He was in more pain then I had guessed, I should have given him some pain meds but… didn't want to risk it, with his head injury, we wanted him to wake up and giving him a sedative would've made that harder for his body to do…" He looked around helplessly before grabbed a needle that was beside Raph's bed and going to Mikey's IV, injected the rest of the clear fluid so it would filter through his system.

"What about his sight, he said it was not normal." Leo said and Raph looked sharply at him, panic yet again making the heart monitor speed up but for once both brothers did not reprimand him for it. _Mike could not see right?_ This was new information to him, for he was sleeping throughout most of it.

"I don't know, Leo!" Don said, his voice raising a notch, the usual calm and collected brother straining under the stress of the situation, "I didn't think that the head injury was _that_ bad, I saw no indications of any brain damage—"

"Mikey's _brain damaged_?!" Came Raph's voice, loud and angry with a touch of fear.

"I DON'T KNOW!" Even Don was shocked by the volume and venom of his voice and stopped, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm himself down. Right now was not a time to freak, he had to be calm to help Mike and Raph, he could not break under the pressure. "I don't have a CT scanner here, and there's no way I could get him to one. He might have bruised the brain tissue but.. I saw no signs, none at all I swear…"

"Its okay, Don. We don't blame you," Leo said, his voice composed but his eyes passionate. Besides, blaming oneself was _his_ department, not Don's.

"Damn straight we don't, it was those fucking _Elite_ and da Shreddah!"

"Language, Raphael." Leo replied automatically from years of telling his rough and tumble sibling to watch it. "What else could it have been _other_ than brain damage?"

"If he was in enough pain his mind might have blocked out most everything, shut itself down, and so his vision could have been temporally blocked in its efforts to evade pain… Or just the stress of everything, wounded, waking up here, in pain… I cant know until he wakes up again and I examine him again, and that wont happen for another few hours." He had given Mikey enough of that lovely clear liquid to make him sleep for quiet some time, and knew that they could do nothing until they weared off and Mike woke up on his own.

"I'm going to make breakfast then…" Leo said after a few moments but then was stopped by an olive hand.

"Uh, you stay here and uh, ... keep Raph company… I'll make the food, ok?" with that he darted off, leaving a chuckling Raphael in his wake. Everyone knew that Leo could not cook worth a damn, that the kitchen was one place that he was _not _perfect. He burnt Mac'n'Cheese for heaven sake, and he did that EVERY time. Mikey had always been the best in the kitchen, his wild imagination assisting him for once in making fantastic meals. Raph himself was probably the second best, but only at cooking meats and other basic things, with Don closely following (though he tended to over think things and thus mess them up) and Leo dead last behind Klunk. Even sewer rats fled from Leo's cooking, fearing it's evil powers.

"Oh, shut up Raph," Leo scoffed, scowling at Raphael before making his way back to Mike's bedside and sitting down once more. Raphael found himself stopping mid laugh as his vision caught sight of fallen brother once more, the sound catching in his throat and squeezing his heart. How could he laugh with Mikey like that, how could he see a joke in anything with his younger brother so injured? How he could he laugh without Mike laughing right along side of him?

* * *

_You liked? You hate? Please tell us yer lovely feelings that magical blue/purple button!!_

_Next chapter Will probably be written a little differently, with us writing parts together and not having separate parts like we have the first two chapters, so it might take a little longer. OH and I am starting my senior year at High School and half a day at a college sooo I cant write alllll day -sniffles-_


	3. Chapter 3

_-gasp- Is this -drumroll- CHAPTER THREE?! OMG YAY  
_

This first half of this was basically written paragraph-to-paragraph just so see how we'd clash writing even more together than before, lol. Then we break off into individual little sections again.

_Its true. And lets see. (right after the paragraph to paragraph part, like its still apart of that section) When Don comes in to see Mikey its me until-_

Until Don goes to see Leo, Thats all me!

_And then the last pagebreak with Mikey is me again!_

* * *

This time the darkness was not quiet a nothingness as it was before, simply because this darkness was not brought on by pain and injury. This time the annoying dark was not as deep and incapacitating as before, it did not have him unaware of anything and everything around him. No, this was different. He could feel the sheets cool on his skin and the air still around his body. He could feel the strain of the stitches as they held his skin together and the burn as his body rushed to heal it up. His head was still pounding but the meds had dulled the pain to a mere soft knocking that was constant and unforgiving, never wavering in its attempt to thwart him.

Slowly, however, his body burned through the sedatives and he found himself gaining awareness once more. The beeping of his heart, the pain every time he breathed, and the rustling of paper not far away. Wait, the rustling of paper? His eyes cracked open once more and he strained his body to not move, forced his mouth to clap closed and stay quiet. Once again he saw nothing. Well, he saw things, but nothing he knew. Blurs of colors that bled into each other, like a water painting with a water soaked paper so the colors dragged into each other.

Slowly he swung his head sideways towards the paper like sounds, his eyes not swiveling in his sockets but staying in place so his whole head had to move just to catch site of the dark green figure that lay there.

"…Raph…?" Damn voice was still scratchy and strained, and extremely quiet, barely above a whisper.

Raph blinked several times at the sound of his younger brother's voice as he set the magazine down onto his lap, and even though his dead legs told him it would be impossible to jounce over to his bedside and hug him, that sure as hell wasn't going to stop him from trying.

"Mikey! Yer awake!" Raph grinned despite the pain snaking its way up into his left kneecap when he attempted to reach out and touch his brother, being just a few inches away. He bit down on his tongue to keep from cursing, and bewailingly withdrew his arm, deciding that a simple wave would have to suffice for now. He grunted lightly upon hearing the magazines spill out of his lap and hit the floor with a soft 'flap' sound.

Sometime during the night Don had roused from another catnap, claiming that he simply could not sleep, and that, as long as he was awake, he might as well do something constructive. He retreated to his lab shortly after that, not wanting to disturb either of his brothers.

Leo had begun to realize that the boredom was starting to get to Raph, and he couldn't help but smirk lightly. Raph wasn't one for being idle, then again neither was Mike, but he could usually find _something_ to keep himself busy. Raph wasn't as imaginative. He somehow had managed to sit himself up, his head lulling from side to side lazily, scanning the infirmary for anything that could produce even a mild form of entertainment.

An exasperated sigh escaped his younger brother as he rolled his eyes gallingly, asking Leo if he could at least get him something to read, and _not_ any of Mikey's comics, although, as he later sifted through them he caught sight quite a few. Of course when he went to question Leo about it, he was nowhere to be found. _Probably in the dojo_, Raph had thought to himself, settling back into the bed with a sight_. Guess I c'n make due wit this._

His grin started to falter a bit when he noticed the way Mike was looking at him, as if he were looking _through _him. His expression sobered quickly and he turned an authoritive eye onto his brother. "Yo Mike, y'ok?"

Mikey turned to the voice, zoning into his brothers face more then he was fast time as he heard his brother speak. Straining, squinting, widening his eyes and squinting again he tried with all his might to see his brother, actually him and not just a blob of him. He found himself looking downwards, well at least the direction downwards as he saw nothing but the off white color of the tiled floor and the bright white color of his sheets melting together in a blur of nonsense.

"… What happened, Raph?" His voice was quiet, strained, and, just like before, pained. He knew that something was wrong with his vision, the muddled memory of his last 'awakened' moments fresh in his mind, but before then all he could remember was… Was… Smiling at Raphael on the rooftops, and even that was clouded and hazy.

He could not venture into why he was blinded, not yet. Mike was far from accepting that idea, and so would not question it even though he felt Raph's keen eye on him (felt for, obviously, he could not see beyond the dark green fleshy blob). He needed the basic's first, needed his head cleared.

He cocked a brow in confusion as he observed his younger brother slowly attempt to compose himself, knowing that waking up while still being somewhat sedated was a real kick in the pants. Everything was always real slow like, and you felt like you were spinnin' and shit, at least, that's how Raph would have explained it.

"Whadaya mean, what happened? ... Oh, right." He grunted, completely forgetting that he had also sustained a head injury until the last minute. Don had mentioned something about him being disoriented when he woke up, and possibly not remembering everything that had happened in its entirety, but was Mikey indicating that he didn't remember_ anything at all_?

Realizing his tone had probably come off as standoffish, his facial expressions softened along with his voice. He didn't want Mikey to wig out like he did the first time he woke up. Was he referring to how he wound up in the bed to begin with, or what had happened the first time he woke up?

"We was ambushed by The Foot, y'member?" He offered calmly, hoping that would jog his memory, but his wishful smile was met with the same blank stare as before. He was aware of his brother squinting an awful lot, but he attributed it to the fact that he'd been unconscious for such a long time again. "Then the Elite showed up an you, ah… busted yer head up real bad an… y'got a pretty nasty gash there." Realizing it was difficult to verbalize the last part, he drew a line from his shoulder to his hip with his finger. "Woke up once, but ya kinda flipped, an Don hadda sedate ya again. Been out for a while now." He finished a few seconds later, shifting his position on the bed. He knew how painful stitches were, but he couldn't imagine what it felt like to have them from your shoulder clear down to your hip. The thought made him shudder lightly.

_Got a gash?_ Mikey thought, he saw movement of brother but for the life of him could not see what Raph just showed him. He knew he felt pain in his chest, it hurt with every breath and twitch ached and he even felt that his heart made it throb dully with every pump. Carefully he lifted his hand and slowly lowered it on his plastron, going from left to right until, with a sharp intake of breath, his fingers brushed against an uplifted section of his chest. "Ow." he stated simply, then proceeded to follow it up and down to know where it went.

"That'd explain the headache…" He muttered, still going over his brother's words. Yes, he still had a headache but now it was subsided, a small pain when shoved up how much his chest had hurt when his fingers had just brushed the stitches. After a moment he threw his head back in the direction of his brother, eyes unfocused and dilated slightly. "... Why're you in here?"

He winced as he saw Mikey drag his fingers along the stitches, flinching himself at the realization of how far they went down. It was irritating enough having his own legs stitched up beyond belief, but knowing that every time his brother even breathed put him in excruciating pain, it made him want to punch the living crud out of The Shredder. It didn't seem fair that Mikey, out of all of them, had sustained the worst injuries. He didn't deserve to be in such pain. Mikey was just a kid, an innocent kid with too much energy and a smart mouth (thanks to Raph), which often got him into trouble.

Raph shook his head and glared down at his legs, recalling the memory now burned into his head of watching his brother being slammed into the brick wall with brute force, watching his head crack into it and snap back lifelessly onto his shoulder. He had felt relief when Mikey had risen a few seconds later, but absolute horror when he realized he couldn't keep his balance, that he was fumbling all over the place, holding his head, that wide, scared look in his eyes.

Raph blinked lightly. It was pretty damn obvious why he was cooped up in here, too, but remembering the head injury, he controlled himself. "Din' move fast 'nuff." He replied lamely to his brother, offering a light shrug. He didn't really want to go into details about his own injuries, partly because he was a fool for getting close enough to let them happen, and partly because he didn't want Mike to worry about him. But then, he figured Mike might not be all too worried about him after all. Often when Mikey was injured, or sick, he would keep his fears to himself, often causing him to have anxiety attacks ("Due to stress", Don would say), or become slightly withdrawn. He searched his brothers face for any signs that he was hiding something, and was alarmed to find that couldn't read him at all, he just looked blank. Not smiling, not squeezing his eyes shut in pain, not frowning, just staring. And not directly at him, either.

"Y'wan' me to go get Donny, Mike?" He asked slowly, shifting to the side to see if his brother's eyes would follow him. They didn't. Something wasn't right, there was something Mikey wasn't telling him.

"No. Just... 'M tired, and I don't wanna be bugged with a million doctor questions..." _And I want to think this through by myself before his anal brain does it for me... _Mike sighed again and rested his head against the pillow once more. He hardy shut his eyes when he felt a light pressure on his legs that startled him, and opening his eyes he saw an orange blur.

"No, KLUNK! No goin—" Don had rushed in and was reaching to grab the feline when he stopped dead in his tracks, staring surprised at Mikey's open blank eyes. "Mike? You're awake?" Don rounded on Raphael as he lie in the bed not far from Mikey, his eyes narrowing at his bedridden brother and setting his lips in a thin strict line.

"Uh... Oh yah, hey Donny, Mike's awake!" Raphael said, smiling a small smile.

"Thanks for the newsflash, Raphael." Don said in a singsong voice before turning back to Mikey, "How're you feeling?"

Mike was petting Klunk by now in long soft strokes, but Raphael and Don had noticed that when he first tired to grab at his pet he had missed blindly, moving his hand back and fourth until his fingers brushed the tips of Klunk's ears and the cat leaned onto his hand. Don stepped forward so he was right next Michelangelo. "Mike?"

"'M fine, lemme alone." Mikey mumbled, and for a moment he forgot how injured he really was when he moved to turn on his side. A loud whimper escaped his lips and he moved to place his hands on his chest only to have olive green hands grip them, and not seeing the action he flinched as his where grabbed and taken away from touching his chest, another whimper as the flinch caused his plastron even more pain.

"Mikey, stop moving." Don said slowly in a low voice and Mike did what he told him to, glad to feel the pain dull quickly. "Hold on, let me get you something for that, ok?" Mikey nodded once, eyes closed tight, and he heard Don rummaging through a pill bottle and then, "Ok, lets get you to sit up and then you can take this." The injured Ninja cringed at the idea of moving right now but the very thought of taking some heavy pills was too enticing.

Slowly Don helped Mikey lean forward, stopping and supporting him when he needed to take a breather and, once Mike was up enough, adjusted the bed so he would not have to hold himself erect and slowly leaned him back. Once that was done he offered up the pills and a small glass of water, to which Mikey did not take. "... Mike, pills?" Don said, pushing his hand higher.

Don was testing Mikey, he knew something was wrong and in Mike's current mental state he doubted that he could properly examine his eyes. He watched the blue unfocused eyes, knowing what to look for (having been on the internet in his lab for the last two hours) and waited to see what would happen.

Slowly Mike lifted his hand, seeing the blur ahead of him but seeing no definite shapes or lines, and with uncertainly carefully hidden from his exterior he went to grab at the unseen hand, and felt his hand go through thin air. Again he tried and again he failed, he felt tears burn behind his blind eyes. Again he failed and the tears were starting to brim at his eyes, one more fail and a single fat tear rolled down his cheek before Don's warm hands found his once more.

He was blind, something was wrong and he was defected, and now he knew it. He was broken, a reject, an unwanted. He couldn't see, _he couldn't see_, for heavens sake. How was he supposed to be a Ninja without his sight, how could he do _anything_ without his eyes? No videogames, no TV, no skateboarding, no board or card games, no Ninja games, no cooking or traveling up top or making pizza or teasing his brothers and and and... no comics... How could he look at those little picture novels without his bloody eyes?

Tears were flowing freely from him now, but he tried to hold back sobs as he feared what pain it would bring (A few escaped, bringing tears, that annoying sob, and a whimper of pain). Don was holding him gently and Raph looked on from his bed, stunned at what had just come to pass, and not understanding what had happened, what it all meant. Mikey was obviously hurt, and he knew that his youngest brothers eyes was not working right, but to have him break down for a second time? At least this time he was not having a panic attack...

"Mikey, I need you to tell me whats going on or I can't help you..." Don whispered as he held his brother gently in his arms.

"I-I-I cant see, D-don," Mikey got out through sobs, hiccupping as he tried to gain control over his breathing.

"What kind of cant see, can you see _anything_, Mike?" Don asked quietly.

"N-no, I mean-n ye-yes, I mean..." Mikey took a careful deep breath, not wanting to hurt his chest as every sob already pained him, upon seeing his Don forced the pills in his hand and the small glass in the other and Mike took a moment to swallow them, composing himself even more. "I mean that I can see... sort of... not really... Everything is-is blurry and not right..."

Don digested this information for a moment before grabbing a pen on a desk and held it in front of Mikey, "What do you see?"

"A green blob..." Mike said slowly, squinting. The pen was too thin to be caught by his damaged eyes but the arm was a thick olive fuzzy line in the midst of the hazy white background. Knowing that this test would not work with the injured one Don put the pen down and instead lifted up his thick finger.

"Do you see that, my finger?" He asked quietly, not noticing Raph turn in the background to silently watch.

"Sort of..." Michelangelo muttered, his voiced laced with uncertainty.

Don moved it back and fourth and was glad to see Mikey's dilated eyes follow them, even though it was more a jerking movement instead a smooth line. He moved up and down and still Mike followed, which pleased him greatly. Mikey was not completely blind, that had to be something. Don then moved to beside his head. "Lean forward a little, Mike, I want to check your head..."

Slowly Mike moved, wincing at his chest as the stitches stretched his broken skin, but the pills (whatever they were) had already begun their job and he felt a noticeable difference from this leaning from before. He felt hands gently prodding his head and winced, forgetting that his head had been pounding not long ago and now connecting that pain to this new pain, he must have hit it at one point...

A quiet sigh from Don signaled the end of his exam and he leaned back, trying to look at Don and failing, as he had no idea where his head may be at the moment. "I don't know what's going on Mike, but I think you have damaged the visual cortex of your brain. I don't know how long it will last, or if it will go away, or what part is hurt because, well, I cant just go out and shove you in a CT scanner." Don sighed again, his face in his hands, "Rest, Mikey, okay? I have to go do some more research."

Mikey nodded quietly, closing his eyes once more. Don turned to question Raphael and stopped mid stride as Raph's face turned from stunned to a silent snarl, not wanting to answer stupid questions that he had been asked every ten minutes. With a flustered look he left, angry that he was not even allowed by his own patients to check up on them. How Preposterous.

Once he was gone Raph turned back to Mikey, wanting to do what he had just snarled at Don for trying to do the same thing but stopped in his tracks. Mike's eyes were closed, his hand still on that damn old cat as Klunk slept at his side, and breathed slowly. _Guess those pain meds were something strong_, he thought slowly before turning back and closing his own eyes, pondering over Don's words.

* * *

Shortly after exiting the infirmary (still a bit peeved at Raph) he made his way to the dojo, expecting to find Leo there._ That's odd_, he thought to himself as he quietly exited, sliding the door shut. He debated on checking Leo's room, but first he decided to try one other place.

Drawing in a deep breath, he let his fingers gently caress the crinkled paper of the shoji door, finding it somewhat perturbing to see a candle from somewhere inside flickering away, casting hazy, dim shadows on the paper wall door. It wasn't until he located the hunched over figure of his eldest brother that he felt the tension in his chest settle.

After stepping into his Father's room, Don paused, looking around. He felt oddly content as he glanced around, instantly noticing the rickety shelf harboring a few worn paperback novels, mostly books from thrift shops and antique stores April had picked up for Master Splinter. He smiled gently when he noticed a few books from when they were children. They couldn't be in that great of shape, he reflected, remembering the condition they had been in when he himself was a child, but the thought still made him feel very warm inside to know that his father had still held onto them after all these years. He wondered what other treasures from the past were hidden in his father's room, although he couldn't look. Not now. It was far too soon.

He found solace in finding Leo's broad form sitting one of the decorated zoutan pillows in the center of the room. Any time their father had wanted to have a one on one conference with one of them, this was where it took place. He could remember his father's sturdy and yet strangely delicate figure resting on old bones on that pillow, smiling kindly more often than not. He could almost make out the impression of the old bones in the decorated fabric, although he reminded himself that the human mind was built to recognize patterns and try to make sense of them (although he supposed the mutated mind of a turtle would do the same).

"Leo?" He whispered softly, keeping a considerably respectful distance from his brother who, upon hearing his name, furrowed his brows and sighed lightly, his elbows slumping into his knees, his posture slouching a bit more than before. Don expected to be met with an irate glance, although he was pleased (and a bit baffled) to find Leo smiling at him. Well, attempting to, anyway. Don didn't really mind though.

"How are they?" Leo asked quietly after a moment or two.

"Raph's... impossible. But that's nothing new." He sighed. There really weren't very many (tasteful) words to describe his hotheaded brother. "He's doing okay, although he wouldn't let me examine him again. Mikey... we have a problem with Mikey. Remember the first time he woke up, how he couldn't see too well? I attributed it to the head injury, but there really hasn't been a change. When I came in, Mike was already up, and Raph gave me this_ look_, and I just knew nothing had changed. He isn't blind, or well completely blind, but he claims he can't see anything but blobs..." Leo gave him that troubled look once again, and he continued a second later. " It could fix itself, or it could require surgery, or... Or it could be permanent. I don't know yet."

"How long do you think that will take, Don? What if we're ambushed again?"

"It could take a week, could take a couple of weeks, could take longer. I don't know, Leo." He squeezed his hands into fists and ruefully stared down at them. "I can only do so much, ... With the limited resources I have available here. I just..." He sighed again, shaking his head. He remembered saying those exact words once upon a time.

_I can only do so much._

Leo sighed also, and allowed his shoulders to slouch inward a bit while his eyes began tracing over the decorative lacing in the second meditating pillow next to him.

"How long's it been, Don?" Leo asked with a weak smile.

"Two years." Don replied slowly, rolling his tongue along the inside of his cheek, recalling memories he had thus far tried desperately to conceal, hoping that they would never resurface.

_I remember when I first found out, how I slowly rocked back into my chair, and how tight my chest felt. No, these results couldn't be conclusive. There had to be an error of some type. I wanted to blame it on the shoddy medical equipment I was forced to work with, but it doesn't matter what kind of facility you have, blood doesn't lie. Reality hit me way harder than Raphael ever could, left a gaping hole in my chest much more gory than anything The Shredder could ever inflict upon me.. It couldn't be true. But it was, I thought grimly, staring down at the test results that held my father's fate._

_I still don't know if he downplayed these symptoms as simply old age and a weakening immune system (we do live in a sewer, and colds and the like are quite common), or if he knew in the back of his mind for a while that this would be what took his life. I had just been too fool hearty to worry myself with such a matter (who really wants to think about the day they wake up without a parent?), and he had been too strong, too stubborn to allow me to run any tests. At first, anyway. _

_When he first came to me, I thought, okay, it's a cold. What he didn't tell me, until later, was that he'd been having these symptoms for far longer than even I suspected. I'll never forget that conversation._

_"Why didn't you come to me?" I hissed angrily. I didn't mean to raise my voice, but I was worried, and I had every right to be. We live in a sewer, and despite our efforts to ward off bacteria; no amount of cleanliness was going to change that fact. We made the best of it, though, surviving the harsh winters underground (until we met April and Casey), even with the makeshift heating system I had cooked up last minute, it was still a death sentence to be in New York's sewers come winter._

_And the summers weren't much better, with the temperatures soaring into the 80's and 90's; we had the perfect environment for bacteria, a warm, dark, dank area. I was confident in my abilities to swart off any illness, however. _

_Many years ago while flipping through the television channels I had come across a medical show, and from that moment on I was completely engrossed in the thought that one day I would be a doctor, and one day I would help people. And why not? I obviously had the intelligence (which I'm very thankful for, I'm not exactly sure why my IQ is so high given the fact that I had the same upbringing as my brothers. Possibly something to do with the mutagen that transformed us, I suppose), I had the desire, and even though I didn't have the medical equipment, that wasn't going to stop me from nurturing my mind. Besides, as I recall, one day Leo came in quite beat up from a training session with Sensei, and having gotten the shell kicked out of him (quite a rare occurrence these days unless Raph and him go at it for a long period of time), I was overjoyed to wrap his wounds with the questionable bandages I had somehow 'acquired'._

_"I did not want to worry you over something as insignificant as this." He replied levelheadedly, which made my blood boil. I could see where Raph and Leo (and probably Michelangelo and myself as well, although nowhere near as bad) got it from, now_—_ the stubbornness, I mean. He smiled lightly at me, but I couldn't find it in myself to smile back. I knew it was mean, but I just couldn't help it. Sure, it was different if Mikey or Leo or Raph got sick or something, they were young, they had a fighting chance, but when Master Splinter got sick, I wanted to know, and I wanted to know exactly what had been going on._

_To know that my own Father had hid his illness from me for so long just infuriated me. Later I knew my logical side would take over and I wouldn't be so angry, because later he would pull me into his room and sit me on the zoutan coushin and fill my head with wisdom and apologies, and I would eagerly accept it. How could I stay mad at my own father?_

_"Insignificant? You call fluid in your lungs insignificant?!" I shot back, literally leaping into my computer chair and jerking it to face my screen. I remember telling myself it was probably pneumonia, and asking myself, how was I going to get him medication for it? Sure I could have Mikey and Raph go steal some, but pneumonia was serious, it required lots of things I just didn't have access to. I had been staring at the blank screen for some time before I noticed I hadn't heard him retaliate, and, curious, I turned to find him standing there, tinier than I could ever remember. I suddenly realized how ancient he had become in the span of the last 10 minutes. I bowed my head and sighed softly. "I'm sorry, Sensei. I just... I worry."_

_I remember questioning him about other symptoms, to which he replied directly, something that, although I was alarmed at his other symptoms (and how long he'd let them carry on), made me feel more in charge, like he trusted me again._

He felt his head slowly becoming less clouded, and it took him a second or two to realize he wasn't staring into the wrinkled, furry face of his father, but that he was looking down on the shrunken form of his brother, who hadn't spoken yet.

"You know, Mikey still comes down here at night sometimes." He offered gently, relieved to see Leo smile a bit.

Leo blinked several times and tore his eyes away from his fathers meditation pillow, glancing over to the picture of his father's Master Yoshi which was proudly displayed between two misshapen candles (close enough that if lit they would cast a waning light that, many a night when Splinter was very unsettled would allow him to make out the comforting eyes of his Master, but far enough away to avoid a potential accident). There was a small wooden incense holder off to the side, and when Leo saw it, he felt the urge to light some. Don saw his gaze flicker from the painting to the incense holder. He would have given anything to smell the familiar scent of myrrh for peace, frankincense and sandal wood for hope, and the ever playful blend of sandalwood and tea leaves that invoked happiness and joy again, but none had been lit since _it_ had happened.

_I thought that I had it under control, I thought that I could combat whatever it was that was ailing my father, but I was wrong. In a months time he worsened, now I was being presented with more worrying symptoms than just enlarged lymph nodes and vomiting. He was beginning to have build up in his lungs that, much like the disease cystic fibrosis (which causes a thick buildup of mucus in the lungs), required me to take a firm hand and strike his back during the night as my brothers, still unaware of the debilitating illness wreaking havoc on our poor old father, continued to sleep._

_It seemed to help, for a while. He wasn't wheezing in the mornings anymore, and he could generally sleep a full night. After about a month and a half I finally realized that my brothers, mainly Leonardo, were becoming aware of our father's declining health._

_A short while later, everything seemed to go back to normal. He was still weakened, and he still slept quite often, but his health didn't seem to be teetering in either direction. Even though I knew it wasn't improving, for the first time since I had seen the test results, I felt that I could breath. That was, of course, until I noticed the tumor taking shape on his chest. Again with the angered words from me and the raised tone, again with the paralyzing fear and his sad kind eyes as he tried to tell me it was all right, when I knew quite clearly that it was** not** all right._

_I had told Leo first. I don't think I've ever seen Leo look so lost before. He didn't look like Leo anymore. If I had had access to an x-ray machine, I was sure I would undoubtedly be watching my brother's strong heart break in two. He hugged me that night, and he cried, and I cried, and it was a night I'll never forget, as long as I live._

_He hadn't wanted to be around when I told Mikey and Raph, and even though I told him he really should be, he refused, said he just couldn't handle it. I'm sure he went and talked to Master Splinter on his own after the talk him and I had had, though, which I hope helped both of them come to terms a bit._

"Has it really been that long?" He asked Don suddenly, rising from the floor and glancing around the room slowly. It didn't feel warm and welcoming anymore, it felt cold and foreboding, empty and sad. This had once been a place of love, knowledge and kindness, now it was an empty, materialistic shell of what it once was, used solely when they felt at their lowest, and needed the guidance of a master and a father, guidance they could no longer seek out.

_It was probably the most awkward moment of my life when Master Splinter entered the room and sat down next to Mikey, smiling gently as he took his hand. Mikey just smiled and gave a light squeeze, his eyes absently scanning the confines of our father's room. I figured this would be the best place to tell them. I was standing next to the small futon and Raph was standing behind it (even after Master Splinter asked him to sit. He declined kindly, and I was pretty sure at that point he knew something was up), his hands firmly on the frame. I knew Raph could tell something was up, especially since Leo hadn't joined us, but I was sure he realized it wasn't about him, which made him even jitterier. Raph, unlike Leo, who paces when he's nervous, can't sit still, although he doesn't pace, he does shift his weight continuously, and cracks his neck, as well as folds and unfolds his arms. He knew something was up, all right. Mikey didn't seem to have a clue._

_I felt instantly sick as I drew in a breath and began speaking, my voice low. "Master Splinter..." I sighed, shaking my head. How could I be doing this?_

_Master Splinter nodded lightly, and I felt horrible when he started speaking over me, realizing I couldn't bring myself to tell them. How insensitive, I thought, I'm making my own father tell his children that he is dying._

_"My sons, I have fathered you all from infancy, I have raised you, trained you, fought alongside you. I have watched you mature into fine youths," He smiled at that last part, eyeing Michelangelo with this sparkle in his eye that made me shiver. "I have had many adventures in my lifetime, and I have had four proud, strong, brave warriors and son's to accompany me on them. I however regret to inform you that I will soon be embarking on another type of adventure, alone, one that I fear may be my last."_

_I've never been hit by a moving vehicle before, but I imagined this was what it felt like. I could feel Raphael tense up from behind the futon. He knew what Master Splinter was talking about. I even knew beforehand what he was going to say, but it still made my body go completely numb._

_"What do you mean, Master?" Mikey asked timidly._

_"Mikey..." Raph breathed. He set a hand on Mikey's shoulder, and Master Splinter squeezed his hand even tighter. Mikey's eyes traveled from Raphael, who was showing great effort to contain himself, and then to our father, who continued to smile weakly. He honestly didn't understand._

_"I ran some tests." I announced, watching Mikey's head swivel over to me this time. He blinked, staring blankly at me._

_"—S'it cancer?" Raph asked bluntly from behind the couch. I could tell his teeth were gritted, because his voice was a little muffled, but maybe he was trying to choke back a sob._

_I nodded solemnly, and Mikey rocked forward in the futon, grabbing our father's hand, looking from him to me and back again. "C-cancer?" He asked, his eyes wide. I think that's what hurt Master Splinter the most, that look. "But Don... can't you..." We all knew he was searching for the words but couldn't find them._

_I shook my head again. "...I'm sorry. I can only do **so** much..."_

_"B-but... but April! Can't we like, can't we kidnap a vet or something?! We have to do something, Don!" I felt horrible, I felt lowdown, I felt dirty and rotten, but I also felt infuriated Mikey even had the gull to say that. I knew it was because he didn't understand, but even that couldn't change the way I was feeling right now. 'We have to do something, Don!' What the hell did he think I'd been doing for this past month and a half? Honestly._

_By this point Raph had thrown any attempts at restraining himself completely out the window. His grip on the futon had tightened, and in an instant he tore his hands away and stormed out of our father's room, ripping the shoji doors open and slamming them shut. They actually ripped a little. I flinched when I heard him walk past the kitchen and plant his knuckles into the brick surrounding our home, and then sighed, knowing later I'd be the one to bandage them. Even after Raphael had thrown over the kitchen table and smashed a chair, Master Splinter remained unmoved, informing us that we would wait until he was done to continue. I was actually kind of glad he wasn't going to attempt to punish Ralph. He really didn't have any other way of dealing with it aside from anger. Raph went topside without telling anyone shortly after that._

_Once Raph had stormed out, I returned my gaze to Mikey, still feeling quite scorned. I had suggested that we try to get someone from the outside to help, but Master Splinter denied, telling me that he was old, and that he had lived a very rich life, and that there was no point in trying to sustain the will to live in a body that was becoming more and more crippled as the weeks went on. He had accepted his death. The problem was, we hadn't. Even if we had access to the right facility and so forth, at this point, they wouldn't do us any good. From thereon out, all we could do was make sure Master Splinter was comfortable._

It was Leo who broke the silence next, stiffly grabbing for Don and pulling him into an awkward hug. His proud shoulders shuddered slightly as he buried his face into his brother's neck. He could trust him. Don wouldn't tell. "I miss him, Don," he croaked weakly.

Don sighed and hugged back. He would have joined Leo in crying, if he hadn't felt so goddamn numb. "I do, too, Leo."

* * *

It was dark in the whole lair, other then a small nightlight that glowed faintly in the infirmary. Even though Mikey could not see it, could not hope to see it, he knew what it was, taken from his room and placed on the nearest plug-in, he knew from the color that it was his Silver Sentry nightlight (And from the fact that it was the only nightlight in the house). Mike stared at it silently, his eyes unblinking in the bright against the dark, in the blur against the black. It was the only thing he could see in the whole damn room, and even though it was a crappy view it was a view nonetheless.

He was deep in thought, his brow furrowed and his mouth set in a tight line, for his thoughts where nothing pleasant, nothing to make him laugh or pull a smile, it was not of lovely smelling pizza or of riding really fast down a tunnel on a skateboard. His thoughts, however, were also not dwelling totally on his… current situation. No, they kept on the past, wallowing in his sorrows and past pain.

Michelangelo wanted nothing more at this very moment to curl up in his fathers arm and cry, sob and bawl and fall asleep as his father cradled him, whispering sweet words in his ears, singing old Japanese songs, and holding him until he feel in a restful and calm slumber. He wanted to feel those frail yet strangely strong furry arms warp themselves around him, wanted to feel his warm mammalian breath on his cheek and the leathery fingers rub tears away form his cheeks.

Mike was able to hold back a raging sob, keeping it down in his chest even though that it hurt like hell to do. Silently tears rolled down his cheeks as his unfocused eyes clouded over with thoughts of the past.

_Mike looked towards the living room, eyes already threatening to overload with tears as he saw the figure sitting on the couch as the stupid soap opera played, drama unfolding with horrible actors. He felt a pain in his chest and looked around the lair again from his position in the kitchen. Don had that stupid "Don't Disturb, I'm working. That means you, Mikey!" sign on his door, meaning that entering was punishable by death. He heard the faint sounds of someone tinkering around the garage, tools being placed down on the cement and other sounds as Raph messed with his motorcycle again, or maybe was working on that other misused piece of junk 'cycle that he had been working on for a few months, trying to get it to start and run. Lastly he looked towards the dojo and his eardrum caught the faint sounds of feet padding on the mats, meaning Leo was doing katas (again). That left Splinter, watching the show intently in the living room._

_Did he want to go and sit with his dying father? Of course he did, he wanted to spend forever at his father's side and soon that forever would end, much too soon. Yet he felt a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of sitting next to his father like nothing was happening, like his daddy was not dying and leaving him and his brothers, like today was just like every other day in his life. Because today was** not** like every other day, and his father **was **leaving them soon._

_The thought of not going to sit by his Sensei, the idea of instead spending this time playing a video game or reading a comic book, made him sick to his stomach, made him want to rush to the bathroom and puke out everything he just managed to get down. How could he pass up a perfectly fine opportunity to spend time with his dad, time that was quickly slipping away? He had to spend every moment he could with Splinter, he needed to._

_Mikey took a moment to compose himself, blink back the tears and swallow the bile that had risen during his thoughts. Slowly he walked to the living room, cringing at the bad camera work and horrible acting and slid down on the couch that his father currently rested upon, but found himself sitting as far away as he possibly could while still staying on the same couch._

_He took a sideways look at his dad, trying to make it look like he was watching the show and his father but, he knew, he probably failed. Nothing got past Splinter, absolutely nothing. His fur, which had been grey for some time, seemed even greyer and was no longer shiny; it held a dull rundown shine to it that was like nothing Mikey had ever seen on his father before. In some places the fur was getting thin (but it stayed thick and grey on top of his head, take that you old human men) such as on his arms and chest. If you saw him walk you might spot a slight gimp that had never ever been there before. Splinter used his cane more for the purpose of a proper cane than a weapon now (and still managed to kick all of their butts in a spar, if Don would let him out of a chair for even a moment that was). The only thing that never changed was his eyes, still bright and wise, still holding that intelligent all knowing look. Still they were able to show just how much love he felt for his sons, and at the same time stare them down with such a striking stare that it stopped them dead in their tracks (even Raphael)._

_Splinter's eyes looked away from the screen and towards Mikey without moving his head, catching his blue eyes and holding him there. Mike could not tear his eyes away or move out of that knowing stare as it analyzed him and picked apart his every thought, instead he was rooted to the spot staring straight back, trying to also pick apart his father but found those bright eyes much more guarded then his own. After a few long moments Splinter looked back at the TV, still not having moved a single muscle other then to move his eyes._

_Mikey's eyes fell down to his lap once he broke stare and a sigh escaped his lips, making his shoulders droop in a way that Splinter always told them to not do. One more sheepish look at Splinter before, after a moments thought, he scooted closer to his dad, a awkward movement, more because he was doing it so slowly other then the fact that it was not even a commercial break._

_Once he was close enough he could feel the heat from Splinters fur, he sat still for another awkward moment, wondering what Splinter was thinking right at this moment. Was he amused at his son's antics, laughing on the inside, or was he sad that his son now felt strange when he was close to him? Probably both, Mike's mind told him. With another quiet sigh Mike found his body moving to its own accord and soon his head rested lightly on his fathers warm shoulder, his eyes downcast and his hands resting on the couch fabric that was still between Splinter's and his own legs. "'M sorry dad." He mumbled after turning his head so his face was in his father's kimono, taking a deep breath of his father's rich scent._

_This seemed to surprise Splinter as he turned his head away from the TV for the first time and looked down at his youngest son's bald head, "For what, Michelangelo?" He questioned, his voice something that Mikey held on too._

_"F'r i'gnoin 'o." By this time Mike's voice was too muffled by the soft fabric to understand much of anything and, upon hearing this, Splinter gently placed his hands around Mike's head and turned it so it was looking up into his brown eyes._

_"Why are you sorry, my son?"_

_"For ignoring you," Mike stated simply, his eyes locked once more on those gentle brown ones of his fathers._

_"You where ignoring me? I did not get this feeling." of course he was lying, Splinter would never want his son's to suffer because of him and he would see Mike's sad face as his fault, he was the one that was sick and causing his youngest to be so sad. _

_"Yes you did, and I know it." Mikey said quietly but then spoke normal, "Why don't you get help from Don, why wont you accept help?" It was the question that had been eating at him ever since he learned of his father's illnesses._

_"My son, please understand that it is not that I don't want your brothers help, but it is my time." Splinter said gently, a hand rubbing his sons cheek as Mikey shifted his head to the rat's knees, looking up at his father while the rodent looked down. "A flower must start as a seed, and it must be planted. Soon it will spout from the ground, my son, and grow beautiful flowers, following the warm sun as it travels the sky and closing up as the moon shows its cold face. That flower does not live forever, it will at one point in time, stop following the sun and wilt. Its pedals will fall to the ground and its stem will weaken and wither."_

_Mike looked at his father, eyes shining, "But I don't want the flower to die."_

_"No, usually we don't like to see such beauty go, but it must for once it goes its body will go into the ground and make way for newer flowers to live their life, it will give them nutrition and its soil so they grow just as big and beautiful as it did." Splinter sighed, still rubbing his sons cheeks, "The old must go to make way for the new, my Michelangelo, it is how the world works."_

_"But Don said that if you get help you coul_—_"_

_"It is my time to stop following the sun, it is my time to make way for the new. I have accepted that, and I hope that, with time, you and your brothers accept it too, my son." Mike said nothing more, only turned his head into his fathers lap and Splinter looked back up at the TV that he had so easily forgotten. Within a few minutes Mikey fell asleep there, head in his fathers lap with his fathers hand slowly stroking his head._

And now Michelangelo laid still, tears making rivets down his cheeks. Would his father be proud of him now, he had wilted away only to make room for a defected child, someone who could not see or move, who got into a fight and lost horribly.

He took a deep breath, imagining his father's kimono as he took in the still air around him, and if he closed his eyes hard enough and breathed deep enough, he almost could smell his father.

* * *

_Wow was that long or was that long?_

'Twas pretty long.

_Hope you enjoyed it, dear readers!_

**We would like to say thanks too Deana, badlevel50percent, Diamond-of-Longcleave, Demi4yah, Puldoh, Simone Robinson, Tink17, Eridani23 and D.J striker for reviewing our last chapter. It means so much to get feed back and its really cool to see what you, the readers, think! I mean we (Cracker and Chink) can only give eachother so much feed back on our own work so it means a LOT to see what you guys have to say. **

**On that note we encourage you to review!**


	4. Chapter 4

Hey readers! Tauni & Ming here!

**Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who reviewed our last chapter:**

**Puldoh, Simone Robinson, Tink17, KriStALKaLEi, badlevel50percent, BellaMonte, Eridani23, Kadtie, and Diamond-Of-Longcleave. We're really happy you guys are diggin' our stuff so far!**

p.s. first part is written by moi, chanmui04

_and the second part is written by meee! Please turn off all pagers and silence all cellphones (NO TEXTING PEOPLE!) before the show begins, and be respectful to everyone around you! Thank you and enjoy the show!  
_

* * *

_Three months later:_

If Don had really wanted to know (which he hadn't), physical therapy, to Raph, was far worse than the initial injury. While he couldn't deny the fact that he was at least happy to be able to get out of bed (claiming he was '_wastin' away here!_'), he knew physical therapy meant that muscle mass had already been lost, physical therapy meant building up what you had left. And when you'd lost a lot of it in your legs, you could pretty much guarantee you were screwed for life. Luckily Raph, being as hardheaded as he was, wouldn't accept that.

"That's right, Raph. Hold it for a 10 more seconds." Raph just gritted his teeth together and grunted, obviously displeased and probably in a bit of pain, but he wasn't going to say anything. If he was going to whine about simple stretches then he might as well hang his sai up for good. Hell slides, knee presses, straight leg rising, he'd done it time and time again. Don had him doing aqua therapy twice a week now, weight training again (god was he thankful for that), helped him twist himself into some ungodly yoga poses (that Mike would have found extremely provocative and humorous, if his vision had improved— which it hadn't), and put him on a strict diet to build up muscle again. And boy did he hate it. At least he was able to walk now, though. That was a plus.

The first day he was on his feet, he could hardly wait. He expected to be up and walking around, doing flips and practicing by noon. That however, was not reality, and when he had scooted to the edge of the bed (Don in front of him and Leo at his side, waiting to grab him in case he fell— made him feel like a fucking toddler learning to walk again), and planted his feet on the floor, he wanted to die right then and there. But he clenched his jaw shut tight and pushed off the bed. He'd been able to stand on wobbly knees for quite a few seconds, since he'd seen that '_you can't do this_' look in Leo's eyes. There was nothing smug or provocative in that look, but it set a fire deep in Raph's stomach that quickly began shooting throughout his limbs. It literally felt like someone had taken saran wrap and wrapped his leg from the knee down, the skin was so stiff. Eventually his legs gave out and he reluctantly let Don set him back up onto the bed.

That had been torture.

"I feel like I'm eighty, Don." He groaned, hearing his knee pop rather loudly. Don was pushing him, he could tell, and usually he liked to be pushed, but this was different. He liked to push himself, privately, alone, in his own little prison, raise the bar by himself. Now he had his own personal flock of cheerleaders (Don mostly, but occasionally Mike would wander by blindly until he found his shoulder, and clap him on the back and say something that wasn't relevant to anything, although he assumed it was supposed to make him feel better, (which it didn't), and even Leo would try to offer words of comfort, in a different way than Don, though. Usually irritating him to the point where he'd try to show off, thus completing whatever stupid task Don had wanted of him).

"I know, Raph. You've got to build up that muscle strength again though." Raph cocked a brow with a lame expression on his face, rolling onto his back. He tucked his arms under his shell and lifted his legs, letting them hover a few inches off the ground. Don grinned a bit when he noticed Raph gritting his teeth again, one eye screwed shut and straining to breathe in quick huffs. The exercise was meant to build the inner thigh area, and even though he'd lost most of the muscle mass below the knee, he didn't think it would hurt. "You'll thank me later. If we wouldn't have started you on physical therapy as soon as possible, with all that lost muscle mass, your legs could have literally shrunken. Now come on, 20 more seconds."

_20 more seconds my ass_, he thought to himself grimly as he allowed his gaze to drift overhead.

Thankful to be on his feet again, despite the fact that it made fiery daggers shoot up into his legs, he began stretching his quads, never once flailing or leaning to the side. He felt silly, reverting back to the basics. Would Don have him start somersaults and finger painting next? With every mindless repetition he felt his blood begin to boil, and even though he knew Don was only trying to help (and didn't even have to help his pathetic ass if he didn't want to, so he knew he should be greatful), he couldn't help but want to slug him in the gut.

He caught sight of a blue flash moving into the dojo a second later, and felt his face grow hot. He still trained in there, still did katas and sparred with his brothers, but the dojo would no longer offer hours of comfort to him. It wouldn't ever be the same, and that scared him.

_I ain't one for writin' things down in a diary or nothin' too often, I usually keep 'em in here, cause I know if Leo or Don ever saw 'em they'd flip, plus, in 'ere they can't do no harm_—_ usually, anyway._

_Ever since I was old enough to walk I been talkin' back an disobeyin' orders, doin' what I thought was best. I don't mean to all the time, (even though sometimes I think I know better'n anybody, even my Sensei), but I got a real strong up bringin', Sensei taught us t'be that way. Guess I just took it a lot more literal'n Leo (prob'ly why I use'ta think I woulda been a betta leader)._

_I try my best to faze stuff out that happens'n my life, real hard things from when we was kids, back when we didn't have nothin', an' was cold n' hungry all the time_—_ stuff like that. I don' think I'll ever, ever forget this, though. Trust me, I tried already. Y'can only drink so much booze a'fore ya realize that memory ain't goin' nowhere, an gettin' plastered n' yakkin' yer guts up all the time ain't real enjoyable, neither. Beer goggles only block so much out._

_It was about a month after Don told us, we was in the dojo practicin'. Sensei told us **it **was no reason to stop trainin', an he din' wann'us gettin' sloppy (heh), so there we was, me, Don (piddlin' on about how Masta Splin'ah shoulda been restin'), Leo n' Mike, all doin' our katas while Masta Splin'ah (who kept tellin'm 'e was fine) was goin' on about somethin' (I wasn't listenin', all I could think about was that tumor on his chest, an I know I was starin' at'em real weird like, 'cause he caught me a few times. It was real awkward.), an of course, when we got to sparrin', he picked me first._

"Raph?"

Raph craned his neck slowly towards Don, although his eyes never left the dojo. He lifted his hand and signaled he was done for a while, and glad to see that Don had left to go find Mikey (who had pretty much assumed the infirmary as his new room, as he was still quite depressed), he found his legs disobeying his brain and wandering closer to the dojo doors.

_I think he picked me first because'a how crazy I got the night I found out, an then how mellow I got after it. I din' exactly avoid'm like Mike did, I just got... weird. He usually lets me deal with this kinda crap alone, 'cause he knows it's real rare meditation or anything but breakin' stuff helps. But not that day, nah, he wanted to spar me. But I didn't want to, 'cause to be completely honest, I was afraid I was gunna hurt'm. Not cause he'd gotten weaker (you could really tell, now. His fur was thinnin' almost everywhere now, his arms was way skinner'n I remember, he din' eat, slept most of the time), but 'cause I was mad. Nah. Furious._

_I was furious at him for not tellin' Don, I felt betrayed. I mean, we was brought up learnin' family's top priority, y'know? You don' mess with family. I used to think Sensei never lied (figgered that's where Leo got it from), but now I know better. I know it seems stupid, 'cause I go runnin' around wit potentially fatal wounds all the time not tellin' nobody (I guess that's where I get it from), but I was real pissed at'm. How could he have gone that long without tellin' nobody? Not even Leo? I mean... Our father, for chrissake! It just din' register with me how he could do that. One part'a me was like, 'Ok, you woulda done the same thing, so can the waterworks an' step it up', the other side was all 'He shoulda told us. We coulda helped'm. Why's he so goddamn stubborn?' those thoughts is best kept inside yer head. I found that out soon'nough._

_"I think it would be best if we studied hand to hand combat for today, I feel you are lacking a bit in that area. You must be prepared for anything." He said, lookin' directly at me. I shook my head, I din' say nothin' but I was pleadin' wit my eyes. God, don't make me hit my father, I kept thinkin' to myself. Don't make me do it. _

_"Raphael."That damn nod (Leo's nod, I realized) damn those eyes. _

_I knew I was up first.  
_

He blinked several times and glanced down only to find his hand reaching out for the door._ He ain't in there_, he reminded himself. God, it hurt. He had longed to see two shadows against the soft paper doors, but much to his dismay, he found only one. Swallowing hard he turned from the door and began shuffling away as quickly as his lame legs would take him.

_I got in fronna him an faced him, we both bowed, an went into our starting stances. I was finally realizin' how damn tiny he'd gotten when he sent a shuto chop for my shoulder. I blocked it wit my forearm an he nodded, real pleased like, smilin' an whatnot. Then he did a roundhouse kick, an when I felt how frail his leg was against my plastron, I locked up. I never lock up. Not like this. I kept lookin' at him, wonderin', why you doin' this to me, pop? Why can't ya just let it be? I knew what he was doin'. Leo n' Mike n' Don knew, too._

_I felt like we was kids again all'a the sudden. I felt like Leo just went up an blew us outta the water, an now it was my turn, an I had ever'body watchin' me. But I knew that it was just me'n him. The others kinda stopped lookin' a while ago. Once'n a while they'd look up, but they knew this was private._

_It went on like that for a little while, he kept throwin' punches an kicks at me, an the whole time I could see how pissed off at me he was. He wanted me to fight back, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I knew I was movin', deflectin', but I wasn't really thinkin' about what was happenin' right there, an never once did I attack him._

_What would I do when all I had was Leo, Mike, n' Don? I mean, sure we still had April n' Casey, but... I just din' see us ever goin' back t'normal after... well, y'know. Who was gunna hold me back when Leo got under my skin, an tell me all this wise stuff that even though I din' understand some of it, it'd make me feel better? Leo was the one in the family who kept a fuckin' mental scroll of all the proverbs Masta Splin'er'd ever said, ever. But we was havin' enough trouble an I really din' see myself goin' to him when I had problems._

_I knew I musta been scowlin' while I was thinkin' cause Sensei's attacks got faster. He was breathin' hard, an Don told him maybe he should go sit down, but he ignored Don, an kept starin' at me._

_How could he have done this to us?! Sure we din' expect'm to live forever, but he coulda... he coulda gotten help from Don sooner. It wasn't 'his time', how the hell did he know it was 'his time'? I was sure gettin' tired of all his mystical ninja bullshit, why did he have to be so graceful and acceptin' of_ everything_? He just let somethin' happen, an accepted it! Don even said that he could try t'operate on the tumor n' drain it, an that it'd give him more time so's we could figure out a plan, but he said no._

_"Why are you so goddamn_ **stubborn**_?!" I finally screamed, shovin' him up against the wall with my chest. I was lockin' up real bad there. I wanted t'hit 'm. I wanted t' smack 'm, an scream, an shake'm an ask him why, why he had to die! He promised us when we was kids he'd never leave us, cause it was just us an him, family was all we had, even a mismatched family like this. I didn't wanna think that next month I could be burryin' my dad, possibly in the sewer. What was we supposed to do? Not like we could go to Japan. What if he wanted to be cremated? God, would one of us have to... to do that? I couldn't imagine my dad in a lonely lil grave in the sewer. I refused to._

_My hands were at my sides in fists, an my eyes were burnin' holes inta his. I remember shakin' real bad, I know I musta been makin' a million different faces, an maybe I was even cryin', but it didn't matter. He was breathin' hard, too, lookin' up at me with this weird _knowin'_ kinda look, an it made me realize what I had just said. He always had different approaches of workin' with me, different ways of gettin' me to realize stuff about myself. I got the message loud n' clear. I blinked several times, but didn't step away from'm, goin' over what I said. I remember lookin' down at'm, seein' how he was havin' such a hard time breathin', an that he started coughin', his body pressin' up against my plastron. Leo ripped me away after that (I guess they was yellin' at me to stand down, but I din' hear it. The silence was so loud. It's a real weird sound/feelin' to explain, kinda like you'd figure it'd sound when a nuclear bomb goes off, y'know?), an Don went to his side, startin' to beat on his back. I usually don't admit stuff like this, but when Leo pulled me away from'm, I was bawlin' my eyes out like'a newborn, an he was holdin' me in a seriously awkward one-arm hug. Neither one'a us could make eye contact though, it was too hard knowin' you was leanin' on the enemy (even though we made each other out to be the enemy only in our minds), too hard to know you was huggin' a brother, an way, way too hard to know you was losin' a father._

_After a while Masta Splin'er was up again, usin' Don for support. Mike was by his side, holdin' his hand like a lost little kid._

_ "My sons," he said, "It is not enough for you to be physically strong. To be a great warrior, one must be strong in mind and body as well as spirit. And you cannot battle your physical demons without dealing with your spiritual ones first. I know this has been hard for you, but in time, you will learn to deal with it, in your own individual ways." He looked me square in the eye, but there wasn't no anger in there, just the kindness I'd always known.. "But unless you learn to accept it, it will eat away at you and cause you much pain. Death is not something to be feared, in time, it will happen to all of us. I have lived a long, rich life, and I am very proud of each of you. Practice is over. You are dismissed."_

They were broken, and no matter how hard Leo pushed them, no matter how many battles they won, no matter how many times they laughed or called upon one another for strength or guidence, they were incomplete. Sure, they were operable, but never again would they be complete.

* * *

Leonardo sat as if he was etched from stone, not a muscle or bone moving as if he was a statue as he mediated. In the lotus position, legs crossed and hands resting softly on knees, eyes closed and face lax. He had been in his position for an hour now, listening to nothing but his inner thoughts and watching nothing but the back of his eyelids. Everything was silent in the dojo, even his breathing was muted in the still air.

He's mind dwelled on many things, but for now they were stopped on Mikey and Raph. Both had just been allowed to be out of bed for a short time, Raphael limping along for ten or fifteen minutes before he said he wanted to 'sit down and watch tv' (everybody else knew this meant that the short walk had hurt him greatly, for him to give up that freedom of walking around and to retire on the couch). Mike had not left the infirmy until Raphael grabbed his shell and pulled him along (acting as if he was forcing his youngest brother to come out to the couch with him when, in reality, he was guiding Mikey. He knew that Mike would not accept help willingly and so had done this). Even in Leo's almost catatonic state he heard the sounds of the movie 'Sahara' in the living room, mentally clapping for Raphael for he had chosen a movie that Mike would not need to see to know precisely what was going on for he had seen that movie a hundred times over.

Leo sighed silently, pondering on what he could do to help his mentally injured brother who had yet to show any improvement from when he had first awoken after the attack. No idea's came to mind and now, more then ever before, he wanted his father, he needed his father.

_He held onto the rodent's frail hand tightly, forgetting how sick and injured the owner of that hand was. Leo was alone with his father now, but it had not always been like that. Just two hours ago all four of the brothers were holding their father's hand or arm, each taking turns hugging and all shedding tears. Now Leonardo, the eldest, held the post alone as his father withered away._

_They had all been sharing long forgotten memories, stories of the past that dulled the pain the present and made them forget the near future. They had sat with their dying father for hours on end, talking and sleeping, watching the television, Master Splinter even got in a training session at one point, against Doctor Don's wishes, of course. But a time came when Splinter knew that it was time for his students to leave him be, well that is, all expect for Leonardo._

_Somehow Leo had talked Splinter into letting him stay with him while he passed. The old rodents original plan had been to die in peace, away from his children, for he did not want his beloved sons to see him pass away from this world and go into the next. Leo had fought long and hard on the fact though, his own hardheadedness beating out his fathers in the end, which was something that was rarely done (Later Leo would ponder if sickness had weakened his father's mind and thus Splinter gave in, but he would never truly know)._

_And so now he sat, watching as Splinter took his last breaths, tears running deep salty rivers down his cheeks. "Father… Oh, my Father…" he moaned quietly, not wanting to alert his brothers who stood outside the room, waiting until the deed was done and their father was gone. Splinter was barely holding onto his mind now, he would 'leave' his body for minutes at a time leaving only a struggling shell of himself and then return, always with comforting words and reassuring smiles._

_Leo never really look those gestures seriously, knowing that they were empty and only there to fill the deadening silences. Nothing was okay; it was NOT going to be all right! Why did his father proceed to say these things over and over again, was his mind so degenerated that he could not remember that he had told Leo these things once, twice, a million times before? With a sob Leo watched as his father's mind left his body once more, leaving his eyes dull and his body practically thrashing._

_Death was not a pretty thing, it hardly ever happened in sleep as it did in movies, or as a calm passing. Once the brain started to fail the body went into auto, and it would do anything to live for as long as it could. The body could not just give up like the mind tended to, the heart will fight to keep beating and the lungs will wrench themselves from the ribs in its attempts to get precious air. The kidneys can burst in their attempts to work and the stomach and rip it's lining while trying to digest or expel what was inside of it. Every time Splinter 'left', his body did just that._

_Five minutes passed, the body fighting a hidden and unbeatable enemy in its attempt to survive, and Leo grabbed the hand tighter, forcing down another sob as the body that was once his father gave a horrid sounding gurgle. Fluid in his lungs, Don had told him, is what would probably kill him, suffocating him. Right now it seemed to be doing a pretty damn good job on his father. Three more minutes of this torture and the body stopped, one long ragged breath was taken from the dying rodent before a quiet, "My son. Please, do not cry." That voice was only a shadow of what it used to be, it was no longer strong and wise but now wavered with every syllable and cracked at the end, making it sound as if someone was shoving a stick down his throat and twisting it around._

_"H-how can I not, Master-r?" Leo sobbed, trying to keep his voice quiet but did not need to raise it much as by now his head was resting lightly on his fathers chest, listening to the struggling heart beat as it pumped blood erratically._

_"I have told you," He breathed, his voice breaking apart from more then just the illness. Seeing his son crying so openly on his chest, seeing his son who always held everything together break down because of him, it was hurt him more then cancer ever could. "It is my time. I have lived a_—_"_

_"I know, father. A long and rich life." God, he was tired of hearing those words, so god damn tired of them. His father had not lived long enough, for right now was not the time to go, and he had not lived rich enough, for he still had to see his sons grow and mature! He had to keep living, keep being their sensei, keep being their FATHER, for crying out loud! He could not leave them, not right now, not ever! They were not ready for him to go, Leo was not ready._

_"Yes, Leonardo. I know_—_" he stopped suddenly as his breath turned ragged and he started to cough, somehow managing to get his hand to his mouth, handkerchief in hand ast he viscous fluid left his lungs through the coughs. Leo cringed and rubbed his fathers head, waiting until they abated. Once they did his father picked up where he had left off. "I know that this is hard on you, and you are not going to accept it any time soon. But within time, my son, you will learn to accept it, I promise."_

_"No, father. You are wrong. I will never accept this. You should have gotten help from Donny! You could still be healthy right now, you could… you could still be living…"_

_"You cannot prolong life, Leonardo, you must be a reed and bend with the wind, take what comes at you. I could not accept help from Donatello because it was against nature, against what needed to happen. My time is over, and I will not fight what cannot be fought."_

_"But… father, I cant… I can't lead without you, how can I protect everyone without you there?"_

_"You have been protecting them without me for years." Splinter stated in his wheezy voice._

_"But I always had you to come home to, Master Splinter, you are always there for me to talk to after a mission or patrol or anything. How can I cope without you?"_

_"You _—_cough_—_ will learn to do without me, my _—_cough_—_ son, you will learn and grow and mature even after I am gone and _—_cough_—_ your brothers will _—_cough cough_—_ follow your lead. You must be strong for them, my Leonardo." By the end of this 'long winded' talk his voice was nothing but a crackle and he dissolved into a coughing fit, this time Leo holding up the hanky as Splinter did not have the strength to do so himself. Yellowish thick fluid ended up on the fabric, loose from his lungs and expelled out of his mouth. "I love you, my son, and _—_cough_— _tell your brothers that I love _—_cough_—_ them, too."_

_Fresh tears flowed down Leo's cheeks as he suddenly grabbed his father and hugged him, trying his best not to injure the frail creature before him. His father was dying and there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it, he was utterly useless, a feeling that Leo had never before in his life felt._

_Suddenly Splinter stopped moving and Leo's head shot up, fear clear in his eyes. The rodent's eyes had lost their shine and Leonardo reached up to feel a pulse in his neck, halfway there, however, the rat started breathing again this time seizing up, every muscle jerking as his body tried one last time to survive, to prevail._

_Leo sobbed, knowing that he could do nothing, and hugged his father once more, burying his head in the crook of his neck and did not hold back on his crying, holding onto his father close. With his ear's pressed up against his father's chest he heard every ragged breath as it rattled in his lungs and every strangled heartbeat as it fruitlessly pumped blood through his system._

_One last breath and the rattling stopped, making Leo hold his father only harder. That heart was still beating in the chest, but not in the usual thump-thump-thump pattern, it was more of a thumpthump_—_thump_—t_humpthumpthump_—_thump_—_thumpthump_—

_Like a gentle wind it stopped in its tracks and, after a minute of waiting for another thump, he knew it had happened._

_Master Splinter, his sensei, his father, was dead._

_He sat holding his father to his chest for who knows how long, crying fat tears until he ran out of them and then just dry sobbing the rest of the time. Leo cradled him even after his body became cold, rocking him back and fourth just like Splinter used to do to them, petting the rodents kimono and keeping his head upright, not allowing it to fall limply back. To a bystander it might look as if the mutant rat was simply sleeping, but the tears on the turtles face told otherwise._

_Within time he gently placed Splinter on his bed, covering him up form his shoulder's down with an old blanket and made him look comfortable. Wiping his eyes he turned around, trying to compose himself as he reached the door._

_Slowly he opened it and looked out, seeing his younger brothers all watching him, red eyes wide and lips trembling. Leo had thought he was composed enough, thought he had himself enough to see and tell his brothers, he had felt a little bit of confidence when he opened the door. Upon seeing his brothers he felt his exterior break down, crumbling like a sand castle hit by a wave, and fell pathetically to his knees, bursting into tears he had thought had ran out long ago._

_Raph stood completely bewildered, watching his brother as he covered his face with his hands and went to lean his shoulders forward so he would hit the ground with his upper torso. Don gasped, tears filling his eyes and took a hesitant step forward, grabbing Leo so he would not fall on his face. Mikey was already sobbing and when he came forward to enter the room Leo had somehow managed to grab him and hug his younger brother, pushing the orange clad turtle's face into his plastron. He did not want Mike to see his father dead, he would not permit it.  
_

_He pushed himself forward, holding Mikey to his chest and leaning half way on Don who still held his shoulder, and reached one had backwards to close the paper doors. His red-rimmed eyes looked up and caught the sight of Raphael, staring at him, completely stunned. Raph looked at him and then the door, only to return to Leo once more, a question that he was not sure he wanted answered in his eyes. Leo looked down and Mike's head and nodded slowly, confirming what Raphael and already guessed to be true.  
_

_They were alone now, they had no father, they only had each other._

A soft slow padding was caught by Leo's sharp ears and then a stumble, only to be stopped by the slapping sound of warn down hands pressing against a wall. Mike must have tripped on something, again. Leo sighed and let his eyes slid open rolling onto his feet and made his way towards the dojo entrance, shaking off the memory that had taken him hostage for more than an hour. Before he even reached the entrance Mike stumbled in, gripping the sides of the door way (that had never had a door in the first place anyways) and throwing his broken eyes this way and that until he picked up on the basic green form of Leo as he stood standing.

"Mike are you—"

"I'm fine, Leo." Mikey interrupted Leonardo, a little habit he had picked up on since the fight that left him disabled. "Let's just… get this over with, ok?" Leo sighed and nodded, knowing that Mike would not be able to even notice the movement in his blobby vision, but did nothing else to indicate to Michelangelo that he had agreed and simply moved away to the middle of the dojo on the warn down blue mats. Mikey noticed that movement, for the green blob moved away from him, and he listened to the light padding of feet on the worn-down blue covering.

Quietly he started forward and sat when he felt he was at the right distance, something he had been able to judge now from the weeks of doing this every single day, sometimes twice a day if Leo wanted. He would come in, they would sit, and Leo would go through eye exercises with him. They would do this for about a hour before Leo would excuse Mike from the dojo and the blinded Ninja would try to escape to the infirmary, and usually made it, unless Raphael asked him to watch TV with him, and that seemed to happen a lot lately. It seemed that Raphael was just as worried about Mike as everyone else, but showed his worry in a different way. He did not fret over every little thing like Donny or try to help him through some sort of ancient Ninja exercises, no, instead Raphael would simply try to get Mikey out of his shell and out of that blasted infirmary.

"Ok, Mikey. Let's start with breathing exercises." Mike did nothing but sit and stare at nothing, not agreeing or disagreeing with Leonardo. Leo, knowing that Mikey could not see his face, grimaced. Mike seemed to dislike these lessons more and more, not being rewarded by improvement of his sight was hard on him and he did not see why they should continue. Leo was diligent on this, though, and kept up with it, never allowing Mikey to falter. And so when Mike started to breathe deeply he was doing the same, even after quite some time meditating. He kept a keen eye on Mikey and, after a moment said, "Remember to blink, Michelangelo." Not wanting Mikey's eyes to become dried out, for to him being dried out did not help or hurt his vision any more so he often forgot, something he and Don were always reminding him to do.

After ten minutes of breathing they started another exercise in silence, both already knowing what was going to happen and so words did not find their way into the situation. Quietly both went into 'palming' their eyes, Leo doing it alongside Mikey for he hoped that it would help Mike doing it, hoping that, even though he would not see him also doing the movements, he felt that Mike knew he was. Pressing on the pressure points in and around their eyes they relaxed the muscles until their entire faces were calm and tranquil. Gently they massaged their muscles and readied themselves for the next activity.

"Ok Mike, open your eyes and scan the area around me. Tell me what you see." Leo had set up many objects around the room, all varying in sizes and shapes and colors, a lot of things that Mike would know from the past, and a few that he wouldn't recognize. Leo watched as Mikey scanned the room, making mental notes when he saw Mike linger in a spot, waiting until his youngest brother spoke.

"Something big and brown with blue in the middle right there," his finger was sloppily pointed in the direction that, without even looking, a chair was set. He had picked the chair out of the few mismatched in the kitchen for it had a solid backing and bold blue fabric that he hoped Mikey would see, which he was pleased he did. If the backing had been the sticks that were often popular in kitchen chairs, it would have been lost in Mikey's blurred vision.

"Good, that is a chair, the one that Sp—" Leo cut himself short when he realized what he was about it say. Two years, it had been two long years, and still it was a touchy subject to talk about that hurt them all. Mikey's face fell and his blind eyes looked down at the blue mat. Leonardo mentally slapped himself, for ever since Mike had been injured he was even more sensitive on the subject of their father, even breaking down a few times if anything was brought up about the dead figure.

"Uh," Leo coughed into his hand once. "Ok. What else do you see?" Might as well shake off the sudden tension that had entered the dojo and keep going. Mike brushed his eyes once with the back of his hand and his eyes darted around the room again before settling on another unknown object.

"A… floating circle?" Wow. This one confused him. Leo smiled something small and he almost felt like laughing, but it hurt him too to know that his little brother was so blinded that all he saw was a floating circle, that he truly was that blind.

"That's the standing fan that Don has in his room," He hid a small smile wondering if Boy Genius had noticed its absents yet.

"Oh… The stick that holds it up… it's fuzzed out." Mike kept his voice low and the tone was sad. His vision was so blurred that the white walls that surround the dojo fuzzed over the thick rod that held it up, making it look just like a floating grey circle.

They continued doing this for some time, and Leo would explain every object and then, in his mind, make notes on what Mikey could not see at all; three DVDs stacked on top of each other, the wii remote as it sat lonely in the corner, and a bright yellow broom was something that he could only see the color of, disorienting the blue of the mats. Doing this certain exercise, Leo hoped that he would start to pick up on certain items, and he knew Mikey did when he would recognize something from another session, slowly making a book of how things looked in his mind so he would have a easier time of living in the lair. It was not much, but it was a start.

"Good. Ok, Mike, you can leave. Same time tomorrow?" Mike nodded, silent as was usual nowadays, and stood, carefully making his way to the door and towards the noise of the TV. Leo cringed when Mike stumbled again over his own feet, but made no movement towards him, knowing that Mikey was, by now, used to this, and caught himself from falling with ease and then proceeded to walk away as if nothing had happened. That didn't mean, though, that all of the still seeing brothers did not catch the tears in his eyes.

* * *

Well, that was depressing.

_yah, sorry about that. I would offer you all a tissue but, well, Ms. Chink over there used them all._

Yeah, sure, like you did not use any. Pfft.

_I didn't. I don't cry. -hastily wipes red eyes- ANYWAYS please leave us a good (... or bad) word! Thanks!!_


	5. Chapter 5

Haii Everyone!

_Hey Y'all! Good to see you back with us once more!_

Here's another LONG chapter!

_Enjoy! OH yah, I did this first part, She did the second, and we both did the last! I know the last part is a little confusing but two things are happening at once so I hope its not too choppy!  
_

* * *

Donatello shifted through his equipment with a strict eye, looking for what he_ knew_ he had. He had seen it just yesterday, he could have sworn that the damn thing was sitting right their not long ago! It was right on this desk, sitting on top of_ these_ magazines and under _that_ piece of paper. He could have sworn…

Uttering a quiet curse he went through yet another pile of junk, picking things up and looking under, around and even inside of some. Dammit he had had the fuse! He _knew_ he had the fuse, he had_ seen_ the fuse, had _touched_ the fuse, and now, he had _misplaced_ the fuse. Donny sighed and rolled back on his heels so his rump was placed softly on the floor, his shell making a soft click at it hit the cold hard cement that made up the floor of his laboratory.

_Time for a trip to the junkyard! _He thought, half way annoyed that he had lost the object and now had to find another one, but mostly joyed that he had a reason to travel to that electronic haven, a place where stupid humans always threw away perfectly fine objects, from lamps needing a simple light bulb change to toasters needing its insides rearranged. Over the years he had found Televisions and Microwaves, Fridges and even a Bo Flex (something that Raphael was hardly ever off of, injured or not). Maybe this trip he would find a new keyboard (the old one he spilled coffee on yesterday morning, stayed up too late once more) or perhaps some toy for Mike, something to cheer him up.

_Oh, Michelangelo…_ He sighed loudly, listening to the sound as it echoed dismally throughout the room. Three Months had passed, three long hard months, and still nothing had changed in his eyesight. Don was starting to fear the worst; that Mike would _never _see again, that this would NOT go away. It was like some sort of stubborn mule, unmoving and unrelenting, and whenever he pushed and pulled it only pushed and pulled back, still not budging. If something did not improve soon he would have to inform them all that this was probably not going to go away and that they would need to learn to live with it.

He had already told Leo his fears, and now almost regretted it. _Leo only meant well,_ he had to remind himself, but he had not foreseen that, once telling Leo that if Mike did not show any signs of improvement soon the blindness would be permanent, Leo would turn around and started to push Mikey harder. Not in a mean way, of course, he did not start demanding things, it was a gentle, feather like movement but one that every brother had noticed. He had more objects in the dojo every day, trained with him doing eye exercises for longer and longer. Earlier today Leo had crashed Don's computer looking for new exercises, one that involved sounds and such (Cue the reason he needed a fuse).

Leo's pushing was having a slightly adverse effect, however, just like pushing a mule. Mike was being more irritable, more prone to snap at someone, and seemed to spend more time in his room (He had been kicked out the infirmary by Don two weeks ago, spewing out the excuse that he needed the place to store some stuff and that his room would be more comfortable. Later that day Mike had come back to Mike nursing a stubbed toe, asking Don if he would help Mike clean his room a little. The request had hurt to ask, and Don accepting hurt Mike even more. 'Back in the day' Don would never have said yes, never _ever_. It just reminded Mike even more of how broken he was.).

Pulling himself back to his feet he made his way to the lab door and grabbed the keys to the sewer slider, just in case he had more than a fuse to bring home… Promptly he turned left towards the lair door, his heart soaring at the idea of junkyard raiding, before he saw Mike sitting idly at the kitchen table, his eyes blank and looking at nothing and his hand moving slowly back and forth with his fingertips barely touching the tabletop, feeling the grooves that the old wood had gained over its traumatic years of life in the Hamato household. The other hand was rubbing the long no-longer stitched up wound on his chest in time with the other hand as it swung over the table, gently brushing the uplifted scar that was the result of the horrific wound he had sustained. Don was actually rather pleased with its progress, it was as if his body knew that it couldn't heal the eyes and so worked double time on the chest, healing it up at an almost unbelievable pace.

Taking a breath he was about to address the youngest turtle when Mike spoke up himself. "Yes, Don?" Donatello was breathless; momentarily confused that Mikey had known he was there without even being able to see his intelligent brother or without Donny announcing himself. He then smiled a secret smile, one that even if Mikey could see properly he would not be able to catch. Mike was improving, maybe not in sight but other senses, such as hearing. Had he been able to hear whom it was by the footfalls, or by knowing that said footfalls came from his Lab? Don did not ask, though, knowing that Mike would just throw him off and not answer, as was custom to his new _shining_ personality.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the junkyard with me." Don said as casually as he could, as if he was asking Mike to go to the junkyard with him two years ago, before they had lost their father, before he lost had his sight. "Leo crashed my computer, _again_. He's like kryptonite to my poor innocent computer." He jested lightly, hoping to elect a smile out of his depressed brother and was heavily rewarded when the tips of Mikey's lip twitched upwards for just a moment, and hoping to keep the attitude up he asked again, "So wanna come with me?"

Instantaneously Mike's face fell, a mixture of sadness, fear, anger, guilt, and overwhelming disappointment. "No… I think… I just wanna stay here, 'kay?" Mike said, his unseeing eyes cast downwards and his voice so quiet and timid that it was nothing like what Mikey used to sound like. Don felt his stomach knot up in sadness and pity, but kept at it.

"Come on, we won't be long and… and we can pick up pizza on the way home?" Don added the last part in a questioning voice, hoping that this statement would get Mike to agree. Have pizza, get Mikey. Or that's how it used to be, anyway. Indeed, he could see Mike flirting with the idea, see him lean forward in thought as the idea of a warm cheesy pizza enticed him greatly, but then held back a sigh as Mike leaned back, his face as stubborn as whenever Leo pushed his lesson for too long.

"No, that's okay."

"Come on, Mike, you need to get out of this lair, you must be getting a little cabin fever after all this time?" _Raph sure was…_

Mike, bless his young, innocent, and slightly unintelligent soul, suddenly pressed his hand to his forehead, looking for a temperature. Don chuckled lightly, pulling Mike's hand down, "No, not a physical fever, it's a saying. It came from when people in places like the North Pole or Northern Canada were stuck in cabins for an extended amount of time because of storms or other reasons and-"

"And they go crazy, or insane, or something. Yah, ok, I get it. Your point?"

Don scoffed lightly at Mike's attitude; more Raph like even Raphael himself was acting, "My _point_ is that you need to get out of the lair, it's not good for your body to stay cooped up," _And it's not good your head._ Don kept that last part to himself, not wanting Mike to take it wrongly, as he had a sneaking suspicion Mike would do.

"Donny. Just. Go, find your stuff. I'm _fine_ here, I'm not going crazy with that fever thing, so you can stop worrying and leave." Mike's listless eyes were looking at (through) Don and then broke away when he sensed how angry and peeved his words made his brother, staring again at the table. "_Please_, Don. I just… I don't want to go…" The words were whispered to cover up the slight choking, the tears, and the sniffle.

Michelangelo was afraid, more than anything else he was afraid. He could hardly walk around the lair without stumbling over something, generally his own feet (You SOO don't realize how much you watch your feet while you walk until you found yourself not being able to watch said feet). Sure, the lair had been picked up a lot, chairs always tucked in, garbage always thrown away, and furniture kept in the same place (Don had put white tape on the floor where the edges of the couch, chairs, and coffee table should rest) but out there, in the real world, things where not kept in the same place, they always moved. He would trip and fall and hurt himself and who knows what or who else if he went out there. And he would not be able to even read the street signs that were in every sewer junction and thus could not find his way home with ease if he got lost, which he always did. He was Mikey, stupid things _always_ happened to him.

How could he go outside the lair if he could not even take care of himself here, in his _home_? No way was he going to put Don, or Leo, or Raph in danger. They were _not_ going to get hurt on account of his defect; they were _not_ going to pay more than they already were for his broken-ness. He would not put them at risk, not when he could avoid it.

"…Fine. I'll… See you later, then… I guess." Don sighed and turned, leaving the lair without a second glance back as Mike put his against the table and crossed his hands on the back of his head, effectively covering most of his green skull.

* * *

Normally Mikey adored being lavished with attention by his older brothers (or anybody, for that matter) but this was getting out of hand. He was irritated, he didn't want to play any of the wily games Leo or Don concocted, he didn't want to stare at flashcards with giant bold print and clearly be able to pick out the underlying tones of guilt in his brothers otherwise encouraging voice as he would repeat for the thousandth time "Good job, Mike". Those words had no meaning to him anymore, because he_ hadn't_ done a good job. He didn't want to attempt to learn Braille so he could read the all-Braille version of his comics Don so willingly cooked up for him (which he felt terrible about refusing), he didn't want to play guess-what-this-is for probably the nth time with an ever devoted Leonardo, and he didn't want to sit through another asinine movie with Raph, being as awkwardly quiet as possible, even though he knew they were all just trying to help.

"Punching bag, Klunk, Don's old computer tower, mirror." He rattled the list of new and old items off in a dronish voice, sighing deeply. He didn't even bother raising his hand; he just jerked his head in the direction of each object. Leo had probably expected the mirror to stump him, but he'd been able to recognize when he was staring into a mirror after hours of painstakingly staring at himself in the rest room, versus staring at one of his brothers.

Hearing his name mentioned Klunk made an odd sound that sounded like a cross between a purr and a yawn and stretched his stumpy legs out, claws digging into the dojo floor, despite the little cat bed (one of many stationed among the lair) right next to him. Leo saw this and flinched as Klunk opened a lazy eye in his direction. He debated on throwing something at the aging cat. He thought better of it, though, and returned his gaze to Mikey (mostly because he didn't have anything on hand to chuck at the cat, and he didn't need Mikey even more pissed off at him). Why did Mike insist on having April buy them if Klunk slept everywhere but actually _in _them?

Although he realized how petulant and depressed Mike had gotten, Leo nodded approvingly, his voice very sure and lighthearted. "Good job, Mike," He replied shortly, watching how his younger brother picked at a strip of worn, grimy tape doing a terrible job of covering a hole on the blue mats, no longer interested in any of the objects lining the outside of the dojo.

"Why even bother, Leo? These therapy sessions aren't even working. I still can't see anything." Mike shook his head, a very familiar crease forming along his forehead as he furrowed his brows a bit (this was becoming quite a common facial expression as of late).

"That's not true, Mikey. You're recognizing things more and more every day, you just don't realize it. You don't trip as much as you used to, and you know where things are in the lair now. You might not think so, but it's helping. We aren't just going to give up on you."

Mike huffed lightly and shook his head for a few seconds. He returned his eyes to the blue matt in a sullen manner, picking at a bit of the fluff sticking out of the stubborn hole that, even after being taped over three or four times (Leo claimed it 'threw him off' and Don claimed it was unsanitary. Raph, however, would pick at it with his sai when they weren't looking, grinning maliciously, while Mike would snort and snigger gaily) still managed ware through. "Whatever... Can I go now?"

Leo nodded and drew in a deep breath. It was hard enough being the leader, but being an older brother/parent/leader was really starting to take its toll on Leo. He watched Mike make his way to the door, feel for anything in his way, and when he was sure it was clear, make his way out, more confidently than he had in weeks. The second Mikey left, Raph turned the corner and leaned into the doorway, his arms folded. He was giving Leo the '_what do you think you're doing_' look. Leo waited for Raph to say something, or at least come in, but when Raph just stood there he shrugged his shoulders indifferently and began pulling himself to his feet. He glanced at the tape and prodded it lightly with his toe. _Now where did I put that roll of tape..._

"Y'know he hates when y'talk to'm like that." Raph said after a few minutes of watching Leo stare menacingly at the strip of tape. Normally he would have found this quite a gas, but after hearing Mike and Leo go through the same drills every day, he was becoming quite ireful. Didn't Leo see what kind of effect all this nonsense was having on Mike?

"Like _what_?" Leo had tried not to sound offended, but he was honestly wondering what he had done to make Raph view him as Mikey's executioner, of all things. He was _helping_ him, not maiming him! Don had even said that both of them would require ongoing long-term therapy if they wanted to ever fight again (Mike more so than Raph), he had only the best interest in mind for his little brother. And he had improved! How could Mike manage anything if all he did was stay in his room and feel sorry for himself? He hadn't even been in his room for almost two and a half months because he was afraid he would trip coming up or down the stairs, and the thought of jumping the railing made him turn pale. With Leo's help/badgering (and Don's hints and little white lies), he was now sleeping in his own bed again.

"Like he's stupid." Raph spat back, just a little_ too_ provocatively.

"_Excuse me?_" Leo replied, quite shocked. "Just because you're a little slower than you used to be doesn't give you the right to bash my attempts at helping Michelangelo, Raphael."

Raph growled, shifting his weight onto his other leg as he pushed off the doorframe lightly, standing on his own. He seemed a little more threatening now, but Leo wasn't exactly worried. "Bullshit! I'm the only one'a ya that don't treat'm like a fuckin' baby!"

In an instant Leo had made the short trip over to where Raph was, and puffed his chest out a bit as he got closer, shoulders pulled back tightly now.

"Look, if you've got something to say, now would be an excellent time to get it off your shell, because I really don't have the patience to deal with you and your rogue attitude lately, _Raphael_." Leo snarled back, inching closer and closer until he was sure he could hear Raph grinding his teeth. Once his name had been uttered, all at once Leo found himself staring down the business end of one of his brother's sai, his arm stiff and unmoving, eyes turning into malevolent slits. He didn't seem to be favoring either leg now; he stood completely erect, shoulders also drawn back.

"Yeah?" He taunted, his sai pointed threateningly at Leo's throat. This scene seemed very familiar, although the circumstances differed greatly. His legs weren't juddering violently as they usually were, Leo could see every muscle he'd been strengthening contracted, trying so desperately to keep him completely still, knowing that a single didder would completely madden him to the point of no return, possibly resulting in Leo (being so close) getting injured. "Y'heard Mike, he still can't see squat! Don talked to ya already, din' 'e? Mike ain't never gunna see again, is 'e?"

Leo didn't even so much as flinch, although Raph could tell he was awestruck. Since Splinter's passing, and even more so since the incident, Raph had attempted to be a bit more agreeable when around Leo, who was also showing an honest effort at not being such a Negative Nancy.

Raph had been lost in Leo's confused yet vexed gaze long enough for his guard to be dropped just a smidgen, but that was all Leo required. He quickly shot his hand out and slammed the backside of his fist into Raph's wrist, and with how taut he'd been holding his sai (his whole body concentrated on not falling over and not slouching, not wanting to look incapable of holding his own in front of Leo), it flicked out of his grasp and clanged onto the hard floor. The second it made contact, Klunk, who had been napping in the corner hopped up and yowled. He shot an irate glance around until he spotted Leo and Raph, and then began pad his way over, as if stalking pray, that evil look specially reserved for Raph dancing around behind his wide dark eyes. Raph followed the sai with his eyes, the anger not having a chance to set in before he felt three strong fingers tightly wrap themselves around his wrist, yanking him forward. Klunk was nearing, slower than usual, growling lowly.

And there he was, staring directly into the face of the enemy. All those old feelings began to boil and bubble under his skin, all those familiar glances resulting in a low rumbling sound emitting from somewhere inside his throat. This wasn't right, how had this happened? He'd just had the upper hand, with a fucking blade pointed at Leo's face, and now he was being reprimanded like some disorderly little punk? Who the _hell_ did he think he was? And of course the fucking cat would take his side, that cat hated him.

For a brief second, Raphael looked down at his hand, and then at Leo's.

His blood was pumping though Raphae'ls veins, and possibly even Donatello's blood, too. The thought made his stomach do backflips.

Raph blinked, his eyes widening at the realization that Leo had control of the situation. This was completely unacceptable._ Fine_, he decided, _if I can't have control, I can at least create disorder_. With a crazed wrawl he stiffened his wrist and ripped it out of Leo's grip. Summoning up all his strength, he, having no other alternatives at this point (it wasn't like he could actually fight with Leo), locked his elbows, and shoved him, hard.

Leo leaned into the attack and took a step back, quickly steadying himself. Faster than a speeding bullet leaving the barrel, both had their weapons drawn.

"I may only have one sai n' two busted legs but I'll still mop th'floor with yer face any day'a the week, pretty boy." Raph jeered, his remaining sai twirling around, his other hand eagerly opening and closing as his shoulders hunched, every muscle in his body screaming for him to attack, to lash out at Leo and show him who was boss.

"Hah!" Leo scoffed, lowering his katanas from the X shape in front of his chest, letting his arms bend dully at the elbows (still a threatening stance, but less hostile). "You really think so? Raph, at this rate, considering how much practice you've missed out on, a regular turtle could completely _whomp_ you."

"Well excuse me fer takin' a jab while protectin' Mikey, while you was fuckin' kneelin' t'the enemy, O' Fearless Leader!" The last retort was made with rolled eyes and his hands pulled up, bouncing around tauntingly. Leo looked up and noticed that he couldn't find that familiar spark thrashing around violently behind Raph's eyes like a fallen electrical wire. It was then that he realized he was simply instigating, realized that Raph had gotten under his skin yet again, but not for the usual reasons. It was a well-known fact that Raphael wasn't one for showing his emotions, and it was usually like playing a game of cards, Raph had an amazing poker face. You had to sift through three layers of bullshit to understand what he was trying to say, and even then his emotions were easily mistaken for pure hatred.

Leo was alarmingly silent for quite some time, the gears turning and crunching behind slitted lids, his jaw jutted out to the side in deep thought. After a while Raph became aware that Leo wasn't really looking at him anymore, and that he was probably deep in thought somewhere, trying to 'center himself'. For a moment, he almost thought Leo would lash out at him (he actually kind of hoped Leo would), but much to Raph's dismay, Leo pulled a 'Leo'.

He shook his head slowly as he sheathed his blades, giving Raph a look that said '_I pity you_', and not because he was injured, no, because he was hotheaded, because he rushed into things, because he was the provoker, because he couldn't do what Leo could, and that was walk away.

"An honorable warrior never engages in battle with a wounded one,_ little brother_." The ending was sharp and made Raph flinch, as if Leo had flicked acid into his face. He shouldered past Raph and made his way out of the dojo, saying nothing more.

"This ain't over, Leo! Rahh! Get back here!" There was panic in his voice. He couldn't lose! He wasn't going to just let Leo walk away from him! He felt his chest begin to expand and retract wildly, and although no tears found their way to his eyes, his chest felt heavy with remorse and misplaced hatred. He couldn't understand it. He wanted Leo to fight back, why hadn't he? How could he just walk away like that? How could he?! With Leo long gone, Raph's legs finally gave out, and he came crashing down into the doorframe. It took him a moment for his mind to comprehend what had happened, and he groaned, rubbing at his legs softly.

A few seconds later a much older, plumper version of his mortal enemy sauntered by, his tail swishing side to side teasingly. The cat paused as he neared the door long enough to look up at Raphael. Don would later tell him that cat's weren't capable of making facial expressions such as this, but he could have sworn that damn cat gave him the same, smug, pitying look Leo had given him, before giving a quick flick of his tail and waddling off towards the stairs, no doubt going to Michelangelo's room.

* * *

Mikey sat at the couch 'watching' the television as it droned on and on. He had been at it for two hours, and was mildly surprised that neither Leo nor Don got him off of it. Don was still gone at the junkyard, probably having found twenty of whatever he needed and then some. Maybe he found something big and was struggling to get it down to the slider by himself. Mike felt a touch of guilt at the thought of Don having trouble but brushed it off, burying it under anger and pity for himself. And Leo… Well he had walked, or rather 'quietly' stomped out of the dojo and off to his room, and had yet to come out.

Raph, on the other hand, was still in the dojo, Mikey could hear him huffing away again. Probably poking new holes in the mat because Leo pissed him off, Mike smiled a little at the idea, for it was just like it used to be. Then again Raph never used to huff and puff while doing that, but he supposed that his leg injuries made it hard for him to bend his knees and keep him low to the ground in a crouch, if he was, in fact, doing the whole poking holes in the mat deal.

About five minutes after Leo had stormed out of the dojo, completely ignoring Raphael's attempts to rouse him, Raph found himself sitting against the wall; his knees bent slightly, his elbows resting on them. _This ain't right,_ he thought to himself, looking down at the ghastly scars on each of his legs. Was it really because of his legs? He remembered a time when he and Leo could go at it for hours on end, testing each other's strengths and weaknesses, sometimes even just for the fun of it. And he found it particularly troubling Leo had simply walked away from him— that, he hadn't expected.

_He thinks I can't fight no more... _Sympathy was one thing Raphael didn't take too kindly to, especially when it was directed at him. Sympathy was irrelevant; it was for weaklings, not warriors. Physical therapy was going far too slow, he could do all the stretches and exercises now with little to no problem, but he was progressing too slowly. _He thinks he really **is** better'n me now, just 'cause he's had all these months to train while I been learnin' the basics again. That shit ain't gunna fly._

He debated on having a talk with Donatello, telling him he wanted to knock his training regimen up a notch or two, but when he pictured walking into Don's lab, he could see Don cross his arms and tell him "absolutely not, Raphael", that he was going too fast, that he'd pull something, or break something, and that he needed to take it slow and "build up that muscle mass again". He'd been building, damnit! He was sick of building!

_No,_ he decided, _I'll do it on my own. That way those two wise guys won't have a say, 'cause they won't even know. Then when I get my groove back, WHAM, Leo's mine. I'll show him._

Shifting on the couch for the millionth time in a very short amount of time Mikey sighed loudly. The sound now accompanied Mike wherever he went, along with listless eyes and (what he felt was) constant stumbling. In truth he had improved greatly with realizing his environment and everything that his brothers had been doing had helped, but like hair growing he did not notice it for it was so slow. Sure, three months is a short time for how aware he had gotten (he had not improved his sight, mind you, just improved how much he knew what was around him and such) but to him it felt like a year, a slow blind year that showed no improvement what so ever.

For a brief moment Raph flirted with the idea of letting Mikey in on his idea. Did Mikey have any interest in training at all anymore? He sure didn't seem to be showing an interest. He didn't even seem to want to do katas anymore, and katas didn't require sight at all, they'd been doing them since they were old enough to walk, the moves had been engraved in each of their minds, it was like riding a bike. Mike didn't hardly do_ anything_ anymore, he didn't paint or draw (even though Don had tried to ease him into it again, telling him about Esref Armagan, an _amazing _painter from Turkey who had been blind since birth), he didn't want to attempt to learn Braille or be read to, he didn't want to play any type of board game. Raph was amazed Leo allowed him to mope around so long like that, but he quickly pushed the thought out of his mind. He decided he honestly didn't care if Mike wasn't interested anymore, he'd drag him in here and _make_ him do something productive.

Mike heard the light padding of feet, the lightest in the house, and so was prepared when an orange blur jumped on the arm of the couch and proceeded to crawl onto Mikey, curling up and purring even before the turtle had moved his hand to pet the feline. "Hey, Klunkers," He cooed softly, using both hands to softly stroke the cat as he purred even louder, "I thought you was sleepin' in the dojo. Did Raph's stench bug you?" Almost as if in agreement Klunk 'murred' in a half meow half purr, rubbing his head into Mike's hand.

Another few minutes passed in silence (other than the purr and whatever was on TV) before a loud "Mikey, com'ere!" came from the dojo. Michelangelo groaned quietly and leaned forward so far that his head touched Klunk as the cat lay in his lap and his plastron protested the strange new bend.

"MIKE, GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!"

Another groan, louder this time, before Mikey unbent and stood, scooping up his cat and holding the feline to his chest as he walked slowly to the dojo, feeling with his toes before putting his feet down.

Once he made it to the dojo door he leaned up against doorway, eyes locked onto the middle of the forest green form that stood in the middle. "What, Raph?" He asked, petting the cat with one hand while the other still held the cat up. Although he couldn't see it he felt Klunk's head as it swivel around and gave an annoyed look at Raph, one that Mike was holding back.

Raph grinned a bit, seeing Mikey hadn't ignored him, as he'd grown so accustomed to doing as of late.

"Leo still upstairs?" He asked, and Mike nodded. "Good. Put the damn cat down and c'mere, will ya? Gimmie yer hand."

Mike stopped for a moment and then bent down, setting Klunk on the ground, who shot an annoyed glare over at Raphael (who stuck his tongue out), and skulked away, reassuming his residence on the scarred up area of the dojo (still overtly ignoring the cat bed). Mike took a moment to judge the distance Raph was standing away from him, and then began advancing over to his brother's hazy figure. He was about to inquire exactly_ why_ Raphael had wanted with his hand, although he didn't even get a chance, as the second he was close enough, Raph reached out, grabbed his wrist, and began wrapping something white around the front and backside of his hand. _If this was Raph's idea of a joke..._ Raph released his hand a second later and reached for his other one, but Mikey shrunk away. He touched his hand and began gently fingering the material encasing his it wondering if maybe he'd injured his hand or something and hadn't realized it? _That couldn't be right..._

"What are—"

"G'mme."

One unfriendly grunt later Mike cocked a brow, lifting his wrist limply in reply to his brother's request. Raph took it and began wrapping this hand just as he had the first one. Once he'd wrapped this one, he smacked the back of it and shoved some weird looking glove onto his hand (that just looked like an old, doofy looking brown spot where his hand had once been, as he couldn't see the general shape of the mit). Raph handed him the other and managed to slip away for a second.

"Raph, what are we doing?" He asked as he squinted down at his gloved hands, holding them up to his face and turning them front and back.

"Therapy." Raph replied mordantly, falling into one of the commonly recognizable stances in boxing, the half crouch, with his elbows pulled up into his chest, his hands hovering in front of his face, and even though it killed him, he even threw in the trademark hopping around from foot to foot, just for good measures.

Mike tore his gaze away from the brown blobs in front of him and obliquely looked at his brother. He could make out a fuzzy version of his brawny brother jumping around like a lunatic, and even though he was beginning to piece together what Raphael was up to (It wasn't like he'd never seen boxing before), he still gave his brother a blank stare, the arched brow insinuating '_have you lost your mind?_'

Realizing Mikey seemed unfazed, Raph sighed loudly and let his posture dip, his arms dropping to his sides, shoulders slouching dramatically. "What, ya never hearda boxin' a'fore?"

Mike rolled his blind eyes at Raphael, watching the blotched world spin with the movement. "'Course I have. Usually those people are perfectly healthy, though. Not with damaged legs that have the doctors order to _not mess with_ and… they're never blind…" he looked down again in that self pitying way and kept his now awkward hands at his sides, hanging limply.

The doctors-orders comment seemed to roll right off his shell as he completely bypassed that statement and said, "You ain't blind, knucklehead. Yer just visually challenged." Although, technically, Mikey did qualify as legally blind, Raphael hadn't really accepted it that way. To him, blind meant you couldn't see jack, no lights, no colors, no nothin'. Mike could distinguish which objects were which now, and had less and less trouble wandering throughout the lair now. The three of them (Leo, Don, and Mike) were slowly becoming three individuals again, as for quite some time they'd been freakin' conjoined triplets. Don was constantly pothering over him and Leo wouldn't give the poor guy two seconds to himself.

"Kinda like how you're mentally challenged, Raph?" Mike quipped rather dully, in a way that portrayed he was not having fun but Raphael saw right through it and knew that it was a good thing when the youngest turtle started throwing around jokes once more; Mike was being more of himself every day, even if it was small (minute even) improvements.

Raph scoffed lightly, rolling his shoulders a bit, although he was grinning slightly. He'd managed to get a simper, no matter how small, from Mike, something Leo and Don had been attempting to get out of him for _months_. He drifted off to the side for a moment and when he returned, he sported a pair of boxing mits similar to the ones Mike was wearing, although these were an obnoxious shade of neon yellow (Casey was going to kick his ass when he realized Raph spray painted his gloves). "Now, look me square in the eye n' tell me ya can't see these puppies."

Mike stared quietly at the bright yellow gloves, greatly surprised that he could see them with ease, but he knew that once they moved they would blur around like a glow stick in the dark. Sighing again and slumping his shoulders he widened his stance and brought his hands sloppily forward, holding them almost limping in front of his chest. It was clear to see that Raphael was not going to leave him alone, so might as well give in and get it over with. "Ok, 'm ready. Go."

To be completely honest he didn't give a damn if Mike enjoyed it or not. He was going stir crazy, he needed to beat on something that could retaliate (it terrified him to think that wailing on his punching bag had gotten boring), and furthermore, Mike needed to actually get off his shell and _do_ something.

He drew his arm back and bounced forward, throwing a pitifully slow punch into his brother's chest, and as he predicted, Mikey didn't make a move to block or even punch back. He completely paused and, with a groan, returned his posture to normal (a bit of an irritated slouch evident) and took a step towards Mike.

"Hey, s'the big idea?" He teased in a gruff tone, attempting to coax Mikey into slugging him. He then proceeded to playfully bat at Mikey's head for a moment before falling back, resuming his position. He rocked onto his toes again and sent another jab towards Mikey's left shoulder, not as playful as before, but still nowhere near what he could inflict if he were really trying.

Mike cringed a little, glad that Raphael had punched the shoulder that did not have a scar that still stung from time to time, yet also felt irritated that Raph had punched that shoulder, it meant that he was being careful, that he was holding back. Sure, they always held back in sparring sessions, if they went full out someone would end up seriously injured or even dead. They had all killed and, while they sure do have a tough shell, they can be just as easy to kill as any other human thug. Lifting his gloved hands upwards, protecting his face, he sighed again. When Raph jabbed next, his eyes followed the bright yellow blotch and blocked it by pushing it away with the padded fist, a little happy to hear Raph's grunt of contentment.

Raphael went faster, connecting frequently, but pulling the punches so much that it was only the padding that touched him. Mikey still hardly blocked, did not bounce on his feet, as Raph was rather excited to do, and never really punched back. Raph growled a little in the back of this throat, both a threatening and yet playful sound, trying to get Mike to be more responsive. A few minutes passed of doing this and the punches got harder, nothing like what Mike knew Raph could do, but certainly harder then before.

"Com'on, Mike, duck, throw a punch, do somethin! Don't just stand there like ya got a stick up yer ass!" Raph taunted, punching his left shoulder again hard enough that Mike, not bracing himself at all the whole time, teetered back a little. "What are ya, ah chicken?" Raphael clucked like a chicken, doing a poor job of it (can you imagine a chicken with a Brooklyn accent?), but he got the desired effect.

Mike set his face in a scowl and before Raph could even blink an eye Mikey had sucker punched him right on the nose. Sweet, innocent Michelangelo was growling at Raph as the older turtle took a step back, shocked at the totally unexpected punch. No one called Mikey a chicken, _no one_.

_M' gunna pulverize that little twerp!_

Raph contemplated grabbing one of the practice staffs lining the walls and cracking it over Mikey's skull, but then he paused, remembering this was what he had been trying to get Mikey to do, after all.

Mike probably hadn't noticed it but he'd been grinning ear to ear ever since he realized Raph wasn't going to turn him into turtle soup. It had felt so good to throw that punch, and it had felt even better when he realized Raph hadn't staged the shock. But his glory was fleeting when he felt the familiar drop in his stomach he used to get after a prank had backfired and Raphael lunged at him in an animalistic fashion. _Oh, shit. He's going to** kill** me._

Raph's jaw kind of jutted out to the side for a moment, and it clicked as he set it. He blinked several times and tilted his head to the side, his brows furrowed, but not in anger, he looked actually quite surprised he had been struck. "Lucky shot. Let's see y'do that again." He flouted shortly, huffing loudly and returning to his semi crouched position.

"You sure you can keep up, gimpy?" Mike replied in a tone surprisingly similar to the old Michelangelo as he raised his own mits, striking them together in a rather cliché fashion. He shrugged one of his shoulders rather roughly, as if something were actually on it, and sprung towards the blurry disfigured version of his brother, throwing a quick hook to the side of Raphael's head.

His head shot back, although it hadn't actually hurt (the padding protected his head enough), he wasn't expecting _another_ attack to the head. He grunted and pulled his gloves up in front of his face as Mikey sent another decent punch towards his face, and once he ripped the gloves away, he sent a quick uppercut into Mikey's stomach (careful to avoid the scar).

Mike took a sharp breath in and, wrapping his gloved hands around his stomach, fell to one knee, and he stayed there. Raph's eyes widened and fear shot through his system, angry that he had hurt his already injured little brother, caused him more pain then what he was already in.

_Fuck._ He was never going to hear the end if this, Leo would be all over him and Don would lecture him for hours on end, and then Mikey would be confined to his bed again for weeks on end, and Raph would be severely punished and chastised with silent, brooding glares from both Leonardo and Donatello whenever he entered the room. _Wonderful._

Stepping quickly forward with slightly shaking hands Raph touched Mike's shoulder, "Mike, ya o—_Urfff_"

Mikey jumped up suddenly and wrapped his arms around Raph, taking him completely by surprise and pummeled him to the ground, laughing loudly at Raphael's surprised grunt as they both hit the ground rolling. He felt the panic and guilt quickly leave his body as he attempted to shove Mike off of him, who had by this point wrapped his arm around Raphael's head.

"Mikey, gedd'offa me ya goof or I'ma—"

He was overjoyed Michelangelo was okay, but he really wasn't enjoying Mikey's musk. He thrashed around underneath his brother before he was able to shoulder him away. Having a moment to himself, he managed to sit back up onto his knees (instantly reminded of how bad of a choice that was, feeling the skin stretch again and the pain shoot up his leg, although he ignored it), feeling quite confident that this burst of personality would quickly be drained from Mike at this point.

He hadn't expected Mikey to latch onto the back of his shell (although he supposed he should have by this point) and grab his arm, twisting it as far behind his shell as it would go, crowing '_one, two, thr—!_'

Raph elbowed him (not so gently this time) in the chin and rolled over. Mike, now lying on his side, grinned goofily up at his brother who leaned over him with his head cocked to the side.

"What's the matter, Raphieboy? Not a fan of wrestling? I figured you'd be into a bunch of sweaty men huggin' each other an stuff." He laughed but flinched when Raph punched him in the arm. This time he didn't hold back, and it hurt, but he ignored it to the best of his ability and sat up a moment later, that smile still on his face.

Just then the lair door opened and closed again and, being able to see the dojo form their home entrance, Don gave an exasperated: "Michelangelo! Raphael!"

The sound of keys hitting the table with a soft 'chnk' sound was heard, followed by the hasty footsteps of Donatello towards the dojo. When he spotted the back of Mike's shell and Raph's playfully angry scowl, he attempted a growl, although it only came out as a throaty sigh. Two particularly disobedient turtles were going to get _such_ a lecture tonight.

The effect was instant. Mike dropped his smile and looked back down to the blue mats, shoulders slumping forward as he began idly fingering some tape. Raph was taken aback, for he had been almost excited to show his brothers that he, the All Mighty Raphael, had gotten their dear baby brother to smile again. The right to show them had been taken away the very second Mikey had heard his brother enter and yell at them.

As it on cue, a very confused Leonardo materialized out of nowhere and tapped Don on the shoulder.

"Are they hurt?" Leo snapped, slipping into leader mode upon finding Mikey and Raph both on the ground.

"No," Don replied between gritted teeth. "But that can be arranged. Mikey! Bed! Raph! I don't want so much as one iota of you even _thinking_ about being in the same area as Michelangelo! Got it? Until further notice, you are both on probation! Now go!"

Leo mentally gawked at Don, he wasn't used to seeing this much hostility or authority from his brother, ever. Although he supposed he had every right, Raph had deliberately disobeyed both of them, and had made Mike go along with whatever had just transpired in the dojo while Leo (still very irritated at Raphael's hotheadedness from earlier) meditated upstairs, trying to quell his anger.

"Don, that ain't even fair, we was just—"

"_Now_, Raphael."

Raph sent a murderous glare at his purple-clad brother, one usually reserved for Leo, who was standing right behind Donatello, mirroring him with folded arms. Both were giving him the death stare, as if he had gotten Mikey horribly injured or something. He looked up once again, searching his usually placid brother's face for a hint of rationality, but found none. _Fine, Don,_ he thought to himself as he jerkily ripped the boxing gloves from his hand and tossed them down onto the mat with a loud '_thwack_'. Mikey complied a second later and sadly slid his own off, his hitting the floor with a much softer '_pfft_'.

Raph huffed loudly and rolled to his feet, grimacing slightly, and made a grab for Mike's hand, pulling him up as well. They both walked towards the exit, Mike (with his head lowered like a chastised child) watching the floor and taking, by now, the well known steps to his room (still using the stairs, not quite confident enough yet to attempt to leap to the upper level of their home). Raph shot Don a bone-crushing glare that undoubtedly could freeze lava. He was_ so close_ to getting Mikey back and now he felt as if he was back at square one.

Don also felt a little disgruntled. He'd gotten closer to Raphael during physical therapy, and now felt as if they were an ocean apart, once again alienated by more than just general interests. He felt horrible, and he had to at least attempt to make up for yelling at Raph (Raph didn't get his 'feelings hurt' as easily as Mikey, but when he was shown a symbol of authority, he completely shut down).

"Raph, we can do some phy—" Don started but was abruptly shut up with a loud and threatening growl as Raph passed him, brushing his shoulder with his own. The red clad turtle looked up to see Leo standing there, arms crossed and stance wide, that bloody annoying death glare on his face. In response Raph growled again and then walked to his room, making sure to slam his door loudly. Klunk jumped a bit, startled out of his sleep. Leo shook his head softly and patted Don's shoulder comfortingly before wandering off again, still a bit troubled that Don had assumed the role of leader, although he was actually a bit glad, honestly not wanting to get into it again with Raph twice in one night. He wasn't exactly sure he could contain himself and walk away as gracefully a second time.

Don sighed as the cat stretched out and yawned, before lazily rolling (literally) onto his stomach and trotting off after Mikey. He paused in front of Don for a moment, and Don asked, "What? Are you mad at me, too?" The only reply he got was a swish of Klunk's tail as he waddled out of the dojo.

* * *

**Thank you Puldoh, Eridani23, Tink17, Kadtie, badlevel50percent, Diamond-of-Longcleave for reviewing our last chapter and we hope that this chapter has made you all just as happy!**

_Hey Everyone! Look at the length of this chapter, hah! We thought this one would be shorter!_

Shows how much we know! Anyways, you all gotta review because Tauni here was on life support of fake reviews because the last chapter did not get so much, it almost killed her!

_Its true, dudes and dudettes! That doctor bill was up the wall!_

Yah, at least I did not have to pay for it! 

_Anyways, thanks for readin boys and girls (is their any boys out there reading this?)_


	6. Chapter 6

Hey All and welcome to our next chapter!

_We hope you enjoy. Ok, for the parts -- I did the first section and she did the second until Raph see's Mike, then its both of us once more._

And after that its Tauni's writing until, well. Ill tell you at the bottom so I dont reveal anything, Ho-kay?

_Goody Goody Goody! Let the Chapter - BEGIN!_

**NOTE IMPORTANT: would you all be kind enough to go and look at the top authors' notes on Chapter one? Its important and Funny. xD**

* * *

The lair was dead quiet other then the creaks and groans of the setting earth as the cool night air made it contract after the hot day had it expanded and stretched. Snores were absent in the household; a strange and yet... almost beautiful sound, was the quiet. Raph was sleeping rather silently, for once in his _freaking_ life. Don breathed so quietly that it did not carry through the stone walls, and Leo did not snore at all (They questioned whether he actually slept or not, for they had all at one point in their life walked in his room, only to find him staring at them with that 'get out of my room now suffer at morning practice' look. They never really questioned 'the look', and all ran quiet fast upon seeing it). That just left Mikey, who always snored, but nowhere near the volume of Raphael. However, the youngest was awake, and thus no sound came from his room, although he doubted any of his brothers would notice.

Slowly he opened his door, cracking it so it viewed the lair and, more importantly, Leo's door, which was shut tight. With a small, secret smile Mike opened his door (glad, for once, that Don was anal enough to oil every thing that even tried to squeak) and walked slowly down the stairs, feeling with his feet for the next step and keeping his hands glued to the wall to guide him downwards onto the main floor of the lair.

His head swiveled around, looking for anything suspicious. Sure, it was hard to see anything because he was 'visually challenged,' as Raph had so eloquently put it, but he was sure enough of his sight, and his hearing, that he felt everyone was still asleep and thus crept into the dojo.

Working out with Raph had been energizing to say the least. Using his muscles that had grown weak over the last three months felt _sooo_ good, even if he was sore afterward (Man, Raph punched him hard in the arm that last time, yet he was proudly prodding the unseen bruise in his room after he had been sent there, strangely liking the dull ache). After he was sitting in his room, on official probation from, like, _everything_, he had thought about what he wanted to do next.

He could not work out with Don or Leo there, he was on probation and besides, they would baby him, not letting him work harder than a mouse, treating him as if he was a delicate feather. Mike was far from delicate; he had survived a horrific wound on his chest and blindness, didn't that count for _anything_, anything at _all_? It should have proved to them that he was strong, stronger than they thought! They would fear hurting him again, would fear damaging him. He was damaged already; a clock could not break more than it already broke, right? So they had nothing to fear! Nothing at all!

A large red vertical blob was in front of him and reached his hand out, fingers brushing the old leather, rubbing down until he found some old tape, fingering a peeling edge for a moment before backing up and bracing himself. If he hit it quiet enough no one would ever know, Don would not yell at him for 'over exerting himself' and Leo would give him one of his many looks that said 'you're in big trouble, mister!'

He moved slowly, his fist connecting with the leather with a soft 'plut' and then drew that fist back and let the other one connect. One, two, one, two, one, two. He kept this up, making sure to keep his hits soft and quiet. Mike was smiling as he lifted his leg to round house kick the bag, once more trying to keep the hits quiet and unnoticeable. Punch, punch, kick, punch.

Sweat was starting to collect on his brow, not working out for a quite some time was already showing its true colors, but he ignored it; it was not that bad yet, he could still go at it for another hour at least.

* * *

He'd slept for quite some time, not too surprised at how exhausted he was. He had done therapy earlier that day, plus that run in with Leo, plus funning around with Mike. He should have expected his legs to hurt like shit, but he hadn't really been thinking about it at the time.

No matter how many times he tossed and turned in his hammock, trying to stay asleep, and no matter how many times he squeezed his pillow over his face until his lungs burned and screamed for air, he could not rid himself of that look in Don's eyes. Don had stood up to him. Smart, wonderful, creative, kind, caring Donny had stood up to Raphael, knowing full well that if Raph had wanted to, he could have shattered every single bone in his body. He was pissed off at Donny, but boy, did he admire him, the dude had guts. If it were Leo in his place he might have lashed out, but no, not at Don. Don didn't deserve his anger; he had only been trying to protect Mikey. Even though Mikey was improving physically, he blinded himself towards Mikey's other issues, mainly his emotions (it still struck him as odd that Don wouldn't have focused more on his emotional status, and that Raphael, of all people had honed in on it first). It still didn't make what they were doing to him and Mike right, though. But this was not a democracy, he glumly reminded himself.

Probation. Fuck probation. It was just another fancy word that meant 'the world is against you, Raphael. Straighten up and fly right, abide by our rules, conform, let us control and brainwash you, and you'll be golden.' He seriously couldn't give a flying fuck about the rules.

What in the hell gave Don (or anyone for that matter) the right to call the shots when it came to what Raph could and couldn't do? He wasn't a child anymore, he could what he wanted, come and go as he pleased. So, why was he sitting up in his room with his legs hooked under his dresser, doing sit ups, again? Partly because he feared that if he crossed paths with Don again he would undoubtedly break his jaw, he told himself, and also because he really didn't want to go toe to toe with Leo twice in one night. He pictured Leo looming over him like some demonic phantom, with his arms crossed, and that smug-ass expression on his face, giving him 'that look'. He'd grown quite tired of that look, receiving it many many times throughout his life. They were like fire and ice, Leo was calm and cool, collective, precise, almost robotic in a way, and Raphael was his exact opposite: quick tempered and passionate, brutal, cold. The unfeeling protector. Reserved. Raphael the rock. Raphael the walking, talking, bicep. Raphael, the brother who felt so much, but didn't have enough brain cells to express his feelings any other way aside from violence. The warrior without honor.

All those old feelings were still there, buried under a thousand mental promises to his beloved father that this time, this time he would try harder, even though he knew deep in his heart it was far too late for his father to witness his attempted transgression, it wasn't too late for him and Leo. It could still work. And he'd tried, he'd honestly, sincerely tried, but he still respected and loathed Leo with every moral fiber of his being, still wanted to see him with his face in the dirt, kneeling at his feet, just so Raph could know for once in his life what it felt like to be Leo, and so Leo could see what it felt like to be Raph. Second best at everything. Second best son. Did Leo even consider him second in line for the title of Leader, should he fall? No, probably not, that title would probably go to Donatello, who deserved it, yet did not yearn for it, did not burn for it like Raph. But he would be damned if another one of his family members died before he got a chance to make amends, no matter how many years it took.

"Aagh. Forget this!" He could only be alone with his thoughts for _so long_ before felt like tearing his skin off, just to rid himself of all the emotions crawling under it like bugs. And he _hated_ bugs.

He shrugged the thought off and hung his legs over the side of his hammock, glancing towards his door for just a moment. He couldn't spot any type of light near the slit under his door, although that didn't mean much considering they were on the second floor. After hopping down from his hammock and dislodging his sai from his wall (which took a little more effort than he thought. Must have been pretty pissed off, he thought), he slid them into his belt and wandered over to the door. He'd done this a thousand times over. He knew how to do this so silently even Master Splinter had failed to catch him a few times. He placed his hand on the doorknob and turned it completely to the side until it would not turn anymore, and, placing a hand on the door, he yanked it open rather quickly. He knew that it would not creak (Who seriously oils door hinges at four am? Don, that's who), but it was his door after all, and stupid things always happened to him, so he decided to play it safe. Closing the door was a completely different matter, and he didn't really bother, not caring if anyone found out he'd left. He'd get in trouble either way, so why bother, if he could get away scotch free for the moment?

Glancing around again he cocked a brow, pausing beside each of his brother's rooms for the shortest of times. He didn't hear any electronic buzzing from behind Don's door, tinkering of any type, or even the soft sound of pages from a book being turned. Even Leo had to be asleep by now, or in a meditative coma, either way, Raph really didn't care. He shrugged a shoulder and took a running leap towards the railing, and at the last moment throwing one leg up and pulling one inward, using the railing as leverage for only a second as he plummeted into the shadows below. Nothing Ninja about that, he smirked to himself as he stood proudly. All Raph.

He quickly began making his way towards the exit when he paused. _What was that? Klunk?_ He listened hard. _No.. No that wasn't Klunk. This was lighter, much lighter, and coming from... _Raph's eyes fell on the dojo and he cocked a brow curiously, sending an alarmed glance up towards Leo's room for just a second. _That couldn't be Leo._ He slunk into the shadows and crept over to the door. _Was that...?_ He sighed in relief upon realizing which one of his brothers it was, and, much more relaxed now, he leaned into the doorframe, offering a soft cough into his closed fist, trying to garner his brother's attention.

He cocked a brow and peered at his brother from the doorframe, his arms now folded sloppily across his chest. "Thought you was in bed." It was meant to come out as more of a question, although his voice was quite monotone.

Mike jumped slightly, he had been so 'into' it that he had not heard the cough and the gruff voice of his brawny brother broke him out of that self induced trance and he twirled around on the balls of his feet, eyes glancing back and fourth in a sweeping pattern until he saw Raphael standing in the door way. "Eh-heh... Hi?" The grin that had held throughout most of the 'training session' had kept on his face and only grew into a sloppy smile.

"Whad'ya doin up?"

"... What are _you_ doing up?" Mike asked, throwing the question off of himself and back at Raph.

Raph smiled slyly, and although Mikey could not see said smile he sure heard it in his voice, "Disobey'n orders, jus' like you 're." Mike's sloppy smile turned into a smirk as he nodded slowly, elated that this meant that Raph was not going to tell on him. Not like Mikey would EVER expect that behavior out of Raphael, no, that turtle could keep secrets just like Mikey could (_used to_) play video games -- with style!

"Wanna join me?" Mike asked, his blind eyes brighting up at the idea of wrestling around again and going against what Don and Leo had told them to do.

Raph didn't think he could put into words how that shy smile from his brother (the one that said 'I know I disobeyed, but I'm just so gosh darn cute, you don't wanna punish me, do you?') made him feel, even with the help of his Brainy brother. He had to hand it to the kid, though, when Mike wanted to, he could be quite stealthy. Raph actually found himself quite surprised Mike had made it down into the dojo without so much as a peep, not because he was blinded, though, but because he was Mikey, who generally held true to April's expression 'Like a bull in a china shop'.

Raph completely abandoned himself for a moment and raised a limp wrist to his temple. He hadn't planned the move, it just sort of happened. "Michelangelo," He said in a voice that was not his own, one that was much higher, much more nasally, a hint of fake surprise thrown in for good measure. "why_, that _would be disobeying a direct order... Hell yea I wanna join ya, bro. How long you been down 'ere, anyway? I din' even hear ya leave yer room."

"That is because, dear brother, I am the Battle Nexus Champion!" Mike's voice was quiet but by the end he had punched a fist in the air and cheering with a whisper of fake crowds. "And I dunno how long I've been down here... an hour, maybe?" He shrugged, not really caring. The other two brothers had not seen him and the one that had found him out was going to gang up with him, he could not have gotten a better deal even if he shopped a discount store! "So... Waddya wanna do first? Some Boxin', or are you afraid that I will kick your ass again?" He smiled lightly, wondering if his brother would take the bait.

"Hah!" Battle Nexus Champion, he was still flaunting that title around? Although this time he couldn't find the urge to rip his brother's head off. He suspected that remembering that probably gave Mike a hard shove back into reality, and was somewhat disturbed by that. Sure, Mikey still held the title, but now, now that he couldn't see as well as he once could, could he defend that title? Raph couldn't even begin to imagine the day when he may be challenged again. If that title was stripped from him, he couldn't see his brother ever being himself again.

"First off, kid, ya din' kick my ass. Y'pulled an illegal, an tackled me." He said the last part and grimaced a little, reaching down to rub the back of his leg. Damn it felt like he ran a marathon. He shot a suspicious glance towards the door once again and counted the doors, one, two, three doors shut. The third one was his, which was still open slightly. That meant Don and Leo were still sleeping.

Mike rolled his eyes, "Since when are _you_ a pickle for rules? I thought you _liked_ breaking them!"

Raph didn't comment back to that, accepting the comment with a touch of pride, and then tried to guide Mike back to what was important at the moment, "Whada YOU wanna do?"

_To see again..._ "Weaponless Spar?" Mike suggested, keeping his tone light and hiding the dark thoughts as they ate at his sanity.

Raph held back a groan, he hated no weapon sparring, his sai were his babies and he loved to use them, he was good at using them and had not really messed too much with them since he hurt his legs. But then again... Mikey had not even held his weapons since the incident, they did not sit in their usual spot in his belt, in fact Mike had tightened his belt to make up for the loss. Was he afraid of the weapons now that he couldn't see them twirl around, afraid that he might hurt himself or someone else on accident? Or was it deeper then that? "Ok, no weapon spar, 'm still gunna kick yer ass!"

"Hah, yah right!" Mike jested and moved with confidence to the middle of the dojo (he had to go there every single day with Leo anyways, he knew right where it was). In a hushed whisper that was meant to sound loud Mikey called "Assume battle postions!"

* * *

Punching bags are heavy. Raphael's punching bag was massive. Most were filled with soft faux sand. Raphael's was filled with heavy, thick granules of sand. Most had a smooth leather surface, beaten until it was soft and pliable. Raphael had punched his so much that it was mostly tape in places, and the leather that showed was a dulled down red, the dye having been literally beaten off of the fabric. With these facts in mind Leonardo heaved the heavy bag upwards and rested the top against his shoulder, walking forward until he neared a closet that was in the dojo and put it down, going back to the center of the room to grab the bag's stand and also put that into the closet.

Leo had spent the good part of the last hour getting the dojo ready for something he had been waiting to do for over three months. It had taken a lot of pondering over the idea, shifting through everything with a fine toothed comb, and bringing the idea to Don after all of that before he accepted the subject and put it on himself to organize, prepare, and lead it.

They were going to have their first training session since the incident. Donatello was still unsure if it was a good idea yet, Raph still needed to gain a lot of muscle mass and Mike was still blind as well as depressed. Leo had brought up the point that they would go easy, the session would not last too long and, if needed, they could stop whenever Donny felt it was necessary. Leo also pointed out that it was just more 'physical therapy' for Raphael and that it was also more training for Michelangelo to get him even further used to his damaged eyes and it might help bring him out of his shell, might yank him out of this depression. In the end Don agreed, only on the grounds that the session would go easy and was short.

Grabbing the last dumbbells and putting them on their proper shelf Leo did one last survey of the dojo, pleased to see that nothing at all was on the floor and all of the shelves had everything in place. Nothing for Mike to step into, nothing for Raph to trip over, nothing for them to hurt themselves on. With a pleased sigh and a small smile Leo walked out of the Dojo and looked for his siblings.

Don already knew what was going on and thus did not need to be told, but they had decided to keep it a surprise for their brothers. His eyes went to the couch were he found Raph flicking through channels at a decent pace. Rubbing his hands together, Leo came up behind the piece of furniture and leaned against the back.

"Hey, Raph, you busy?"

"Wad'it look like?" Rapheal grumbled, flicking to the next channel away from the news. He had done nothing today except sit on his butt, at one point he had gotten so bored and went to Don to ask why they had not done any exercises today and Donny told him that he was too busy right now, maybe later. Of course, Raphael did not know that Don had said that because the violet wearing turtle knew that later that day they would have a group training session.

Leo held back a quick remark about Raph's attitude and gave himself a moment to let the momentary anger simmer down before saying, "Well, if you're not busy then be in the Dojo in five minutes."

"Leo I dun wa- Wait what? The dojo?" Leo turned his back on Raph as the turtle was stumbling over his own words, smiling to no one at the hopeful tone in Raph's voice and directed himself towards the closed door of Mike's room.

He knocked softly before turning the handle and opening to the door. There was the rushed sounds of sniffling as the door swung open in a gentle arc, and Leo stepped in concerned, "Mikey?" Said turtle was on his bed, his shell facing the door and his arms running in quick sweeping movements over the bridge of his beak and his eyes. The second that Leo had said something he twisted around, a small smile on his face and his blind eyes thrown about before resting on the area around Leo's head. If Leonardo had not heard the sniffing and seen the red rimmed eyes he would not have guessed that Michelangelo had just been crying over something or another.

"Yah, Leo? Did I miss our session, sorry I must have slept in…" His words were rushed and a sweet smile thrown on his face, one that said 'I'm sweet and cute and you can't get mad at me'.

"No, no lesson this morning, remember I told you that last night?" Leo questioned, stepping fully into the room as Mike swung his legs off his bed.

"Oh yah, I forgot." _Me'n Raph trained for longer than usual last night, must've really worn me out... Didn't realize what time it was when I had woken up awhile ago… oops…_ "What can I help'ya with?"

"Meet in the dojo in three minutes, ok?" Leo was pleased to see Mike smile something big at that and turned his shell and walked out to collect Don.

_Wow, that was a close one. I should ask Don to put a lock on my door…_ Mike sighed and pulled himself to his feet, his hands fumbling for the long orange fabric to tie around his eyes. He had become quiet adapt at putting the bandana on without needing assistance, but it was one of the few things he did not require help on.

Resting against his bunkbed frame he breathed deeply, using the tip of one of his bandana tails to further dry his eyes. _Great, now Leo is going to go all mother hen on me… _Yes, he had been crying, and of course that's when Leo just _has _to walk in. That's Leo, master of timings. Boy, Leonardo always found just the right time to walk in a room; just when Raph gets out his dirty magazines, right when Mikey loses a game and gives out a curse, precisely when Don is high on coffee and at a breaking point. It's like had a 'Brothers Doing Something They Shouldn't' radar and it was always on, night and day, rain or sunshine.

So what, a mutated turtle couldn't cry alone in his room every now and then? Ok, what if I put in that said mutated turtle was blind, that change anything? At least he was crying less and less, adapting more to his new sight and accepting it more and more each and every day, every single time he and Raph trained secretly at night.

_Heh, Leo and Don STILL have yet to figure that one out! _Mike snickered slightly at that thought as he put on his wrist guards; it was fun to do something behind their back. Sure, it was bad to do, but most things that are fun are kinda bad. Pranking your brothers, getting tibsy off of Raph's beer, fighting a bunch of misguided kids that think of themselves as ninjas (cough-The Foot-cough) and they meant no harm in this activity, if nothing else they wished to help themselves, gain their muscles back and build self confidence (Well, in Mike's case at least, Raph had enough self confidence for the whole team). So it was not that bad… right?

Right! Other then, you know, disobeying direct orders, possible injury to one's self or others, they could further aggravate their previous injuries, and they begged for injury from their brothers by doing it but, hey, it was _soooo_ worth it.

Mike made his way to the slightly ajar door and came to a sudden stop, his heart pounding in his chest. Should he grab his weapons? He had not even touched them since… well since he become different. Don had put them, along with his other gear, in his room while he operated on the youngest of the turtles, sewing up his plastron. Absentmindly Mikey rubbed the ridge that made his scar, he had yet to actually see it and he wondered if it made him look cool, tougher you know? Or if it was just a reminder about how weak he had been, about how he had faltered and got himself nearly killed…

With a strange gulping sound his fingers felt around for the nunchucks, feathering the surface of his desk until he felt the soft worn down wood of the objects. Gently, as if they might shatter at any moment he lifted them up and held them in front of his face. The sticks himself were hard to catch in the dark room but he could see them as they swayed side to side, disorientating the burred wall. Michelangelo tilted his head to the side as his blinded eyes lazily followed the tube like sticks as they moved in a gentle pattern. How was he to fight if he could not see his weapons all that well, much less know if an enemy was holding something as small as a gun or pocket knife?

Biting his lips Mike put them back down on his desk, cringing at the clack they made when they hit the wooden surface. No, not today. He would not use them today. Maybe he could talk Leo into retraining him, surely they still had those training 'chucks made of softer wood laying down somewhere…

_Whoops, been three minutes!_ Mike rushed out his door and, with practiced ease, jogged down the stairs, one had plastered to the wall and counting the steps subconsciously in his head. _Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen… five steps forward, three steps to the right and… A-hah! The dojo entrance!_

_One basic green blog….. oh look there's a forest green blob… Was I'm not the last one?! Hah! Take that!_ Mike walked in careful to feel with his toes before stepping, even after Leo informed him that he had cleared out the Dojo. It was habit by now.

He heard the padder of feet behind him before the gentle voice called, "Sorry, sorry, had to finish gluing a frame to a screen or else I would've had to start all over again…"

"S'okay, Genius, Mike just got here so's you aint that late."

"…Oh, well that's good." Don replied in chipper tone as he joined them in the middle.

"Ok, guys. I know it's been awhile but we are going to get back on track with training," Leo began, holding his arms crossed over his plastron. "We are going to take it easy at first, just some simple stretches and, if you're up to it, maybe some light sparring."

Raph smirked, liking the idea of sparring, and to hell with light. He wanted to fight, and he could not wait to kick Leo's ass because O' Fearless Leader was unprepared for just how much Raph had been training. Yes, he hoped he got paired up with Leo,_ please _let it be Leo…

With that Leonardo guided them through simple exercises, stretching out their unused muscles and preparing their mind for some actual training. Mike, for one, was glad that he knew all of these stretches and so did not have to look at Leo for guidance because, you know, the whole blind thing would _really_ get in the way of that.

Once they were fully 'stretched' they started on simple katas, holding poses that many would find rather difficult to hold for minutes at a time before changing to a new kata, Leo's voice promptly correcting them if they did it wrong. Mike was not surprised when Leo's voice was mostly directed at him, he could not see his arms to know if they were held at the right angle, he was going purely on feel. Leo's voice was always calm and reassuring when correcting any of them, never demanding or angry, always patient and understanding, but Mikey wondered how long he could keep _that_ up.

Then Leo paired them off, Raph with Don (Raphael sighed, he really wanted to kick Leo something good) because Don could better assess Raphael's endurance, and Mike went to Leo, for Leo had worked more on Michelangelo's blindness then Don and thus he was the one that could better judge how Mikey was doing then Don could.

"Ok, Mike. Attack me." Leo directed, positioning himself in a defensive stance. Mike watched the blob as it adjusted and, without thinking twice, darted forward, bracing his arm for where he hoped it would impact Leo's plastron.

Suddenly his arm was grabbed and twisted so Mike just kept running and spun. Leo let the arm go gently and was already turned to face Mikey, "Too direct, Michelangelo. You need to center your weight. Again."

With a quiet grunt Mike tried again, faking left then going right, hoping to clip his eldest brother's shoulder. His attack was interrupted when a hand was placed on his shoulder and sent him reeling once more with a simple, gentle touch. "Too obvious, fake more dramatically next time, you need to make the enemy think you're actually going to fake. Keep your weight on the balls of your feet."

Growling slightly Mike twisted as Leo ordered, "Again, Mikey." This time he did not attack right away, trying to do everything that Leo had told him. Was he centered? Was his stance right? It _felt_ right… But what did that mean? He also felt the floor under his feet but that did not mean it would stay there (Leo could easily throw him on his shell).

Like a bullet out of a barrel he shot forward towards the green blob and was satisfied when he felt Leo's plastron as his forearm slammed into it. The plastron gave some as Leo stepped back, surprised at how hard Mike had actually hit him. As he stepped back he saw out of the corner of his eyes that Don and Raph had both stopped and were looking their way, was it fact that Mikey had been growling, a sound that was generally only coming out of Raph's mouth.

With a quick movement Leo grabbed the arm and pressed on the pressure point that sat on the inside of the wrist making Mikey's whole arm go limp and thus making Michelangelo lose his grip. Leo twisted his whole body, moving out of the direction that Mike was still going even with a limp arm. Not having anything pressed against Leo, Mike felt himself falling towards a faceplant.

In one simple gesture Leonardo grabbed Mikey's shoulder and pulled him back to his feet before he hit the ground. His other hand went to Mike's other shoulder and steadied him as Mike swayed on his feet, his equilibrium off balance from all of the sudden movement.

"Mike, that was better but you put too much energy in moving forward, next time ju—"

"I CANT Leo, I can't! I can't see, I can't tell how fast I am moving or what position I am, I can't see what position you are in! How am I supposed to fight back if I can't see what you are going to do?" Mike was nearly yelling, his blind eyes were watering but he fought tears viciously and jerked away from Leo's hands that rested gently on his shoulders. Don and Raph both started to approach, both looking worried at the sudden outburst.

Leo's hand reached out again to touch his arm but Mike took another step back before he reached his goal. "Mike, it's ok, we can teach you to kno—"

"No, YOU can't teach me anything, Leo! YOU don't know what it's like, YOU CAN _SEE_!" Mike was still backing up until he hit the wall, next to the dojo door. Something poked in his arm and he jumped at the unexpected feeling.

"Mikey, please, calm down!" Don's voice came from the middle of the dojo and approaching Mike's slightly shaking form as it quivered in anger.

"Mike, come back here!" Raph's voice came from the furthest away, he had made no movement to stop Mikey's get-a-way.

"Michelangelo, we'll figure this out." Leo, calm and collected as always, but an edge of sadness and desperation. He was the leader, he had to keep everything together, he had to keep everyone alive and good and healthy. And he had failed, Mikey and Raph were proof of that.

Mike breathed deeply and rested his head back against the cool cement wall. "No… I'm too different…" He pressed his arms against the wall, enjoying the coolness of it against his anger, heated skin and felt that strange prick in his upper arm. With another jerk away from it his fingers fumbled against it, trying to feel what it was.

He smiled.

"No, I'm different than before, it's too hard for me…" With the flick of his wrist he snapped up the poking thing on the wall and was pleased when everything went pitch black. He heard a surprised grunt from Raph and could imagine Don's perplexed look. Leo, smart cunning Leo, probably caught on to what Mike was doing before Mikey even thought of it himself.

"Now it's even. I'm blind, you're blind." He stepped away from the wall, listening to Raph's heavy breathing and Leo's extremely light breathing, catching Don's in-between breaths. "Lets play."

The instant the lights even so much as flickered Leo's head shot up towards the ceiling, his mouth twisted to the side in an infuriated, confused sneer.

Surprised gasps rang out from around the room, followed by an almost inaudibly smug "humph" from a voice Mikey knew to be Raphael.

Everything fell deathly still.

Raph was grinning.

Don was blinking.

Leo, well, he was fuming.

"Mikey?" Don called into the bleakness, sighing. He was rather surprised to find that his voice echoed just a tiny bit.

Ever since the incident Mike had been different. He'd been much more quiet, less likely to crack a joke or comment on anything that even remotely resembled humor. He'd become withdrawn and depressed. Don felt it was best to let the depression run its course, but now he wasn't too sure he had done the right thing.

Leo'd spent all this time helping Mike, re-training him, teaching him things that he should have soaked up like a sponge, and this was how Mike repaid him? The sour attitude, the disobedience, the whininess, the unconfident tonality of his voice, the words 'I can't do it', that may as well have been tattooed across his forehead? Had he failed, yet again? Was he losing another brother? Raphael at this point was the scrap of a brother he had once known so well, a scrap he grabbed and held onto for dear life. And now Michelangelo, his dear, sweet, innocent Michelangelo was slowly slipping away from him more and more each day.

"Yo, Mike? Y'there?" Raph barked a second later. He got no reply.

"Nobody move." Leo commanded, trying to make his voice sound confidant and possibly angered, although Don could pick up on the underlying tone of sadness and irritability as Leo's hands automatically raised out in front of his chest. He began making his way to the light switch.

One, two, three. His steps were delayed, tactful.

But why? He had cleared the floor. He couldn't possibly trip on anything. Why had his confidence been retarded?

Because he was unsure.

Because he couldn't see.

Now he knew what it was like to have to feel the grooves in the floor with his feet, follow the cracks, recreate a map from memory. Master Splinter had occasionally blindfolded them and insist they practice this way, and Leo always blew them out of the water, but it brought a smirk to Raph's face as he heard the uncertain shuffling of Leo's feet, closer and closer to the light switch.

Now he knew what it was like when you tried and tried your hardest, tried to go your fastest, tried to strike your strongest. Everything was thrown off when you had lost your sight. Your sense of touch, your sense of sound, your own sense of being. It suddenly became impossible to tell if you were holding your hands too high or too low, or if you were possibly bowing your knees a bit more than you needed to be.

Mike held his breath and waited, his eyes dodging around in the dark.

Don squinted, and then threw his eyes to the right of where Mike had been standing just a few seconds ago. Usually this worked, but all he could see were the green-ish-plasma-y globs of light dancing around before his eyes, similar to what you saw when you stared at the sun for too long.

Mike heard a few more steps towards the light, a bit more confidently now, somewhat quicker. Leo knew the dojo like the back of his hand (or so he thought), and he'd seen the switch just seconds prior to Mike flipping it off, so he knew it wouldn't be too long until Leo found it.

Wait. Watch. Listen. Attack.

The second Leo's left foot touched the ground, a disgruntled battle cry left Mike's throat as he threw his hand out, and quite amazed himself that his palm made contact with Leo's throat on the first try. Leo made a quick sound, sucking in a gulp of air before Mike shifted his body to the side and executed a double roundhouse kick that planted itself into Leo's shoulder.

Leo hit the ground with a loud 'oof'. Mike could hear Raph grunt. He heard Don gasp, and he heard Leo's ragged breathing somewhere below his knees.

"Leo! Leo where are you?" Don breathed and began making his way towards the labored breathing.

Mike hunkered down to what he was sure was Leo's completely mortified form sprawled out on his back and replied in a voice no one but Raph had heard in over three months, "So. Did I pass?"

Leo blinked. A wide grin developed across his face and he shot his hand up, palming Mike's face. He quickly threw Mike to the ground next to him and breathily replied, "B plus," to which Mike's reply was a low groan, accompanied by a soft "Dude."

"Uh, guys?" Don called, the room suddenly being flooded with light.

Raph's head shot up and he growled uncertaintly at the lights above, rubbed at his eyes, and then located his two brothers on the floor. Mike's foot was draped over Leo's plastron, and both were grinning ear to ear.

* * *

Oh yah. So I wrote from after the "Lets Play" Line. Tauni is a freaking genius, when she hobbled back to the computer chair at like 1AM her time to tell me that line, I was like, WHOADUDE.

_I would encourage you all to go and read chanmui04's (Miss Chink's) new story called **Miscommunications** its really good and she has something tasty planned!_

**Thank you Puldoh, badlevel50percent, Tink17, Kadtie, AlbinoChibi, Eridani23, and Mikeysgurl916 for your wonderful reviews! We would also like to thank Vilsy for reviewing and saying that she liked the description, for we both love her stories!**

_MIKEY'S BACK -squees-_

I wonder what his first prank will be...

_DunDunDUNN!_

Anyways. Heres a chapter that took some hard work people, so we both hope you like it!

_Tell us if you liked it or not, if everything was fine and dandy_

Or absolutely fantastic. Your pick.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, so this isn't one of our best chapters. I've been really sick and suffering from severe writers block.

_But dont worry, she's gettin bettah every second of every day because of Mushrooms and Grandmothers -laughs-_

Leo got ahold of our 7th chapter and messed it up :(

_I did the first section until he goes to see Don, thats all her. And then I did the Leo Don scene until Don goes to Raph, then its her. The everybody scene after that is her as well. That last cut is Mine. And thats it. Lol.  
_

* * *

Mike's fingers feathered gently over the dusty covers of the soft paperback comic books, the bright reds and blues standing out in a blotched picture. He knew what the cover looked like from memory, that the white and blue splotch in the middle was Silver Sentry and the stunning red behind him was the hair of a tall beautiful woman, a damsel in distress. Lastly the dark area in the top right corner was the villain, bright red eyes and one wicked sword of a weapon. He knew that the brilliant white slightly curved line at the top was the title of the comic and, although not picked up by his eyes, that there was a number and title of this certain book just under that.

It was not the same anymore, though. Sure, he could quote the comic probably almost line by line, but what good would that be if he could not see the expressions of the little drawings that were attached to the bubbles? How could he enjoy it if he could not see the damsel's pained expression right before the villain was about to drop her and how heroic Sentry looks when he grabs her out of the air and topples the villain in the same move? It was simply not the same.

With a huff he snatched the dusty pile and put it in a drawer of his chest (not like he had clothes to store there anyways) and closed it, fingers lingering on the handle for a moment before he jerked it away, twisting his body around to his door in the same moment. He would never truly read comics again; it was part of the past, like crawling in bed with Splinter after a nightmare. Something that he had to learn to grow out of, and although it would be a struggle, he knew that he could do it.

_Maybe I'll take Donny up on that rail or hail or whatever it was called._ Mike pondered this for a moment as he threw himself on his bed, no longer afraid of hitting his head against the frame. He had never been a fan of novels, too long, too much info, not enough pictures. If he learned to read on his own it would give him some independence, not to forget something else to do besides sit around and train.

Michelangelo spent another few minutes pondering the idea of learning how to read with those little bumps that formed letters and thus words, which made up stories. He knew that Don would be glad to teach him, even if Don himself had to learn at the same time (Mike wondered if that was true, Donny probably already knew how to read using Braille, that insanely smart freak of a turtle).

The TV turned on and he heard the distinct sound of the couch groaning under a heavy weight as it slammed upon the poor, unsuspecting piece of furniture. Raph must be done with physical training… With a grunt Mike pulled himself off of the bed and made his way towards his door. _Might as well entertain myself by buggin' him then._

Humming some unknown tune Mikey made his way swiftly down the stairs, now so used to it that he could do it blindfolded (_hah, like that would make much of a difference_) and since he always, no matter what, walked on the side with the wall (that he ran his hand down as he went) the others now tended to walk on the other side, not wanting to crash into him as he confidently zipped down to the main floor. This time there was no turtles other then himself on the stairs so the transition from the second to the first floor was smooth.

He stopped once at the bottom swept his eyes around, locking onto things for a moment before moving around and locking onto another thing. Mikey was taking inventory, placing objects that he could see and spotting siblings that he could spot. Raph was, as suspected, on the couch, his bald dark green head and shoulders poking up as he sat on it the couch, his feet probably on the coffee table. Don was no were to be seen but if he listened close enough he could hear the sound of metal clinking against metal, a sure sign that the genius of the family was tinkering with something or another in his lab.

Lastly his eyes found Leo, sitting at the kitchen table with a grayed blur in front of him. _Newspaper_, his mind supplied him as he tracked his way into the kitchen. Leo did not shift the paper in his hands when he heard Mike approach but did glance up as his brother's unfocused eyes locked onto the area around his own body. There was that smile on Mikey's face, one that he was so utterly and absolutely happy to see, but one that also set his defenses on high. When Mike smiled that smile something was up.

"Hey, Leo…" Mikey asked as he sat down at the kitchen table, his hands fumbling to pull the chair out but quickly grabbed it and yanked it outward, settling down in the wooden object. He felt Leo's gaze on him (of course not seeing those hazel eyes peer out at him, details that small were easily missed to Mike now) and continued, "Can I get a dog?"

One tired sigh later he got a reply, "You have Klunk, Mikey, why do we need a dog?"

"Because Klunk can't open doors or pick up objects or take me through the sewers or help me up the stairs or guild me across the street or help me get my Shell Cell or assist me in gra-"

"No, Mike, you can't have a dog." Leo cut him short of his long-winded explanation, and put his paper on the table with a soft rustle. Mike pouted for a moment, sticking his lower lip out throwing his blind gaze downwards before looking back up at Leonardo with a glint in his eyes.

"… Can I put a leash on Raph and call it good?" Mikey asked, his face lighting up in a dopy smile as an annoyed _"HEY!" _came from the living room.

"If you think it would help you, Mike." Leo said, not able to contain a small smile at the comment and allowing a tip of his lips to twitch upwards.

_"That is SO not happenin' Mikey! You com'n here wit ANYTHIN' rope like I'll kick your lil ass!"_

"Hah!" Mikey exclaimed loudly so it would reach Raphael with ease, "You can hardly lift your foot, much less get it my sexy butt!" and laughed loudly as he elected an extremely annoyed growl from the living room.

_"Well why don you come in 'ere and back up yer mouth, pretty boy!"_ Raph was now fully twisted around in the couch, his dark eyes glaring at Mike and Leo as they sat in the kitchen. It was all in fun and games though, and he was just playing along. Having the real Mikey back was a pain in the ass, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

Mikey only smiled, holding back a giggle at the idea of Raphael on a leash, and then left the table with a quick 'see you later' at Leo.

Although he had not heard the door open, Don could sense someone else was in the lab. He assumed it was Mikey, because the intruder was silent and seemed to move slowly. Mike still had a little bit of trouble with Don's lab, mostly because everything was constantly moving, new piles of this and that would appear in places they weren't yesterday, and piles that had been there for ages suddenly weren't scrap metal just laying around anymore, proudly displayed somewhere Mike couldn't locate anymore.

"Hey, Donny?"

"Yes?" He hummed, not yet looking up from whatever it was he was tinkering with.

Mikey hesitated. He felt the side of the wall and when his finger bumped the light switch, a blueprint of Don's lab began to materialize in his mind from memory. Okay, straight ahead, there should be a counter, a pile of junk to the left, and then Don's computer desk and chair.

He realized he must have been thinking far too long because Don stopped tinkering and was staring at him from the other side of what he knew was a counter.

"You 'member when you said you could whip me up some of those funky little stories with the dots?" He asked slowly, his eyes rising towards the ceiling as if he were having trouble recalling exactly what Don had told him.

"Braille, yes. I remember." He said, his attention shifting from what he had been fiddling with a second prior to his brother. "What about them?"

"You… think you could still do that for me?"

"Sure!" He smiled and nodded, although he knew Mike couldn't see it. He called Mike over and when he had reached the where Don had been standing; he patted the countertop lightly, indicating that he wanted Mikey to move just a bit closer, which he did.

These past few months had been horrid, Donny informed Leo that Mike's vision would probably not ever fully recover, and Leo in turn had voiced his concerns on Mike's obvious depression and personality changes. They had kept careful watch on him, every day being met with this quieter, more somber version of their sibling. It had bothered them all greatly.

Don gave a brief explanation of the history of Braille and how just like Sign Language, it differed in other parts of the world. Also how there were different types of Braille, some for shorthand typing, some for mathematics, there were even special typewriters in Braille.

He went on to explain that Braille could easily be viewed as the world's first Binary scheme for representing the characters of a writing system. Mikey didn't seem to be interested in this part, or the part that Don rattled off next. Something about computers and a bunch of 1's and 0's.

"Uh, Don?" Mike interjected, his face clearly showing that he was far beyond confusion. If I'm already confused and this is just the start... He held back the quick feeling that shot through him, screaming at him to run away from this before he gets too angered and sat it out until it passed, fingers fiddling with each other in his lap.

Don blinked and glanced up, seemingly unaware that he had gone into lecture mode. With a soft laugh he shook his head and patted Mike on the shoulder, then darted away to his desk. "Oh, right. Sorry, I got carried away. Now… This is going to seem confusing at first, but only because you didn't grow up with this system."

Mike could hear him shuffling papers around and what sounded like bits of wobbly plastic that could imitate the sound of thunder if jiggled just so. A few seconds later Don shoved a rather thin sheet of what felt like plastic into his hand.

"What's THIS?"

Don smiled and shrugged a little, not wanting to sound offended, although he knew it wasn't the fanciest thing he'd ever created. "Well, it's all I could come up with on such short notice. I made this as kind of a prototype the first time I mentioned it to you, but you didn't seem interested, so I haven't made anything better. This'll have to do for now, though."

Leading Mike by the shoulders Don sat him down in his computer chair, cleared the clutter out of the way and set the sheet of plastic down. Mikey cocked a brow when Don grabbed his hand and let his fingers run along the surface of the plastic, a dumbfounded look on his face.

"Uh. Wow, okay. I thought they were gunna like… wouldn't it just be easier to like, have dots in the shape of an A?" Mike frowned as he felt the weird little bumps under is fingers, not at all happy that they didn't make themselves useful and just spell out letters he could recognize.

"Then it wouldn't be Braille. That would be tracing letters."

Mike wheeled around and questioned why he couldn't just do that, then, learn to trace letters, saying it would be much easier and quicker. Don did not share his enthusiasm, however, and reminded Mikey of how large and stubby their fingers were, explaining that in order for Mike to trace letters with his fingers, the letters would have to be huge and engraved in a large sheet of plastic. This would be both illogical and wasteful.

Mike huffed and pushed away from the desk, crossing his arms over his chest. He couldn't help but think this was a bad idea; maybe he should have just let sleeping dogs lie.

"I'm never going to learn this, Don!" He whined, tilting his head back and forth irritably.

"You also claimed you were never going to use the stairs again."

Touché, Donny.

Mike only groaned in response. The prospect of learning now seeming quite fruitless. Why had he bothered to ask Don? He was getting along fine without those stupid picture books, wasn't he? It angered him that something as simple as a comic book had caused him this much anguish. He just wanted something more to fill his time!

He should have known nothing involving Don could possibly be easy.

"Come on now, Mike," Don's voice had become a bit sterner than before, as if he were talking to an unwilling child. "I promise you, once you give it a little bit of practice, you'll be speed reading. And if you like it, I'll make more for you. Okay?"

Sighing and allowing his shoulders to dip a little, Mike nodded. He straightened out and placed his fingers on the sheet of paper, reminding himself whining wasn't going to get him anywhere. "Okay, so is this an actual story, or what?"

"It's the alphabet. Okay now. Feel that? Each letter is kind of like the face of a domino," he tried to put it into terms Mike would be able to grasp more easily. "But with six holes. Now, depending on which dot or dots are raised indicates which letter you're looking over. One raised bump over here in the left corner," he explained, letting Mike feel it, "is A. B is pretty much the same, but with another bump directly under it. Understand?"

"How do you know?"

"Well, I mean … it is the alphabet." Mike looked a little hurt for a moment, his shoulders falling forward and his hand that hovered over the letters going lax, knowing he should have realized that, but grinned when Don added, "Plus, I marked in which letters were which with a marker."

Once they had gotten through A-J, Don attempted to explain that dot 3 was added to each of the A-J symbols, thus giving you K-T, and that next, both of the bottom dots (dots 3 and 6) were added to the symbols for A, to create U, V, X, Y, and Z.

"Wait..." Mike arched an eye ridge and wrinkled his face up in confusion. "Where's 'W'?"

"Since the inventor of Braille was a Frenchman, and the letter W pretty much wasn't used in French around that time, 'W' was kind of left out."

"Well that's… Onderful."

They sat and went through the alphabet over and over again until Don could place Mike's finger on an individual letter and he could recall it from memory, even if it took a few moments sometimes. Once or twice he froze up and forgot, but Don quickly reminded him to keep everything moving smoothly.

While any hope for Michelangelo's sight returning to normal seemed slim, he hoped that giving Mike the chance to be able to read on his own again might offer a sense of confidence that would possibly help him walk into the dojo next time even more sure of himself than the last. Not all hope had been lost; during his downtime Donatello had also begun doing research online, and had found plenty of information on fully or nearly blind people who participated in all different kinds of sports and physical activities, including martial arts. He had even read one article that argued that blind children often picked things up much faster than sighted students.

His hopes were high for his brother. Michelangelo had the physical skills mastered; he only now needed to learn a different way of applying what he already knew.

"Hey, Don, this is kinda-" Mike's voice fell short as his fingers fumbled along the plastic for a moment, locating the two dots next to each other (c) the three dots that formed an arrow facing right, twice (o, o) and finally the three dots horizontally in a row (l).

* * *

Leo sat at the couch in a perfect posture, s always. His feet lay flat on the floor, aligned with his knees and his hips were set at a ninety degree angle, shoulders relaxed but still straight and square, and the weight of his head balanced nicely on his neck, his chin parallel with the ground. The television in front of him was turned on and the volume set low, he did not need it blaring like his brothers were so fond of doing, and his hazel eyes locked onto the screen as a petite blond read from a prompt.

"-inds up to seventy miles per hour or more and expecting over three inches of rain, this storm will be a dozy, Manhattan. It is recommended that everybody get inside and stay inside, put new batteries in your flashlights and pile up on the blankets"

The little lady then turned to the man beside her and they rattled on about the stock market taking another big fall, but Leo turned a deaf ear to it and made his way to Don's lab were the turtle was currently working on the toaster once more. He silently opened the door and when Donatello did not respond he knocked against the doorframe. Don jumped and twisted around in the computer chair of which he sat. Leo smiled gently, "Hey, Don. Am I interrupting?"

"No Leo, not at all. Need something?" Don asked, putting whatever gizmo he held in his hand down on his desk with a soft 'clank' and then folded his hands gently in his lap. He sure seemed to be Mr. Popularity lately.

"A storms coming in tonight," Leo started and Don nodded, he had heard something about a big storm coming a few days ago.

"Yeah, I was going to take Raph with me to close up the valves in a few minutes, do we need to get on that right now?" Leo nodded as Donny had before and Don got off of his chair and placed his shell cell in his belt, grabbing the Bo Staff that leaned against the wall and slipped it on his back.

"Oh hey. Guess what." Don said, smiling wide enough to show teeth. He had meant to tell Leo later that night but might as well do it now, as Leonardo was standing right in front of him. Leo gave him a long lasting look before half way rolling his eyes and giving out a sighed "Hum?"

"Mikey came to me to learn some Braille, he's already got down the alphabet and with some more practice he will be putting words together in no time." His smile spread enough that it rivaled Michelangelo when he won a game.

"That's fantastic Donny!" Leo also shared a warm smile; happiness blossoming in his bosom that Mikey was already out of his shell so much and was still getting out that dark place he resided for three whole months.

"Ok, I'll go collect Raphael and get those sealed off," They both left the lab, Leo heading towards his own room and Don, after a quick glance around, headed towards the Dojo where Raph was currently punching his tattered bag.

After nearly three months of silence, Don found the sound of Raphael wailing on his punching bag to be somewhat comforting, and if he had had the time, he might have stayed outside the door just a little bit longer and just listened. Those valves, however, he thoughts as he slid into the dojo, were not going to close themselves.

"Raph?"

Raph sent one last jab into the bag and then grabbed it with both hands, steadying its rocking form. Nodding to Donatello, he brushed a bit of sweat from his cheek and walked over to the dojo exit, a moment later joining Don in exiting the lair.

They began strolling through the sewer, Don making unsettled comments here and there as he noticed the sewers were already a bit more flooded than he had suspected. It was something they had to deal with constantly, living in the sewers, if they happened to sleep through a storm and it over flooded, they could lose everything all over again.

In New York, when a big storm hit, no one above even gave a second glance at the sewers, which Don though at bit preposterous. It was a sewer, for the love of god; did they want discarded trash floating around in the streets by morning? Apparently it was not that big of an issue for the average New Yorker, whose drenched loafers and ruined heels could be heard shuffling and clicking by at a hurried pace overhead.

"Sheesh'r people still up there? I tell ya, Donny, I dunno how New York ain't a ghost town. People here'r so stupid!"

With a light wave of his hand Don stepped over a floating pop can. "Obnoxious, foul-smelling, inattentive. All traits of the average New Yorker. Don't act so surprised."

"How come we ain't like that then?"

Don blinked and looked over his shoulder at Raph who blinked back, then nodded quickly. "Ohright. Mikey."

Since no one gave the sewers a second thought, Don often had to go out and do this himself. He supposed this was better than sending people down to do it; running the risk of being spotted, and any automatic valve-closers were also out of the question, because that would mean construction, and more people. This was like changing Klunk's litter box, no one wanted to do it, but it had to be done You could only ignore it for so long before you were knee-deep in yesterdays garbage. He was a bit relieved when Raphael actually volunteered to help him, assuming he would say no and Don would have to beg Leo instead.

"How much farther, Donny?"

Raph wondered why he had agreed to come with Don. He knew a storm was rolling in, but he had had no idea that it was going to be this bad. The grates were flooded, water gushing in from the left and the right, carrying pieces of newspaper and cigarette butts, they even spotted a few larger items such as cups and soggy hotdogs float by.

"It's just up ahead."

When they were kids, a horrible storm had rolled in and pelted New York with gallon after gallon of rainwater. Eventually the sewers had gotten so flooded that Splinter, the water up to his waist by that point, had had to lead his boys through the sewer junction, looking for a safe spot to rest for the night. They ended up spending the night in an old warehouse, keeping warm by huddling around a barrel of fire like a bunch of bums.

They had lost everything, which at the time hadn't been much, but it was still a very devastating blow for a father and four children to take.

A few years after Don had literally mapped the system out in his head, he set out to alter the grates closest to their lair to shut, alleviating the possibility of another flooding.

The idea was simple, and the work had been light. All he did was install a slab of metal to close down on the inside of the drain (if it were on the outside someone would have seen it, plus, he'd actually have to be outside the sewer to do it). It had been one of his greatest (and simpliliest) accomplishments, one he still was very proud of today.

Raph groaned, wondering if scars could get infected. He entertained the thought of having Don amputate his legs, because they'd gotten infected from all the waste he was wallowing around in, but his thoughts were silenced when Don pointed up ahead, announcing they were there.

"Damn Don, why'd ya gotta put this so far out here?"

"It isn't even that far, it's just the resistance of the water making it seem like a longer trip than usual. And anyway, because the valves were already here, we don't have any right by the lair. These used to be used for something else."

Don explained the painstakingly simple task of turning the valves at the same time, while Raph lapsed in and out of consciousness, his mind once again faltering, wondering if Don realized he was even listening.

"Okay, go."

They both turned the valves, electing a creaking noise that made Don cringe (apparently Don didn't oil EVERYTHING). All at once everything became much quieter, and there were no streams of dirty water pushing down through the drains.

"Well, that worked out rather nicely if I do say so myse-wait, do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Don tilted his head and glanced down the long tunnel behind them. "I can still hear water running. One of the flaps must be malfunctioning. Come on, we need to go fix it."

Giving an over exaggerated sigh Raph tramped after Don, who was twisting back and forth as he attempted to run through the water, also trying not to fall, which proved a bit difficult as the floor was still littered with heavier objects that would not float.

"I can't believe I'm doin' this." Raph growled, struggling through the water after Don.

* * *

"I don't know what's taking them so long, maybe we sho- Don, Raph!" Just as Leo had begun to rise from his chair, he spotted a very wet and very shivery Donatello squish his way in, an equally wet although slightly more pissed looking Raphael squashing in a second later. Don coughed into his fist and began wringing out the ends of his bandana, Raph scowling the entire time.

"Where have you guys been?" As Leo placed a hand on Don's shoulder he looked over at Raph, who had made his way over to the couch, growling loudly in protest when Mike pulled a face, as if Raph had smelled something awful.

Don went on to explain how the plan had backfired and how they'd had to stay extra and find something to plug the area where the metal flap should have clamped down. With Don reaching an arm inside the bathroom to grab a towel or two, Leo stepped over to the couch area, intending to question if Raphael was all right.

"We were getting worried." He said after inspecting Raph and concluding that he was all right- a little wet, a little bit pissier than usual, but he wasn't injured.

Mike twisted around from his position on the couch, offering a meek smile. He picked up a tortilla chip and said,"Yeah, dudes, we were about to like, go try and find you. Well, for Donny, anyway. OW!"

"Raph, don't hit him!" Leo reached a hand out and smacked Raph upside the head an instant later, and even though Mike couldn't see the look on Raph's face, hearing him groan like a bratty child was enough to make his face light up like a Christmas tree.

Thank youuuu karma.

With Raph growling gutturally at a grinning Michelangelo, who shoveled another tortilla chip into his gaping yap, Leo took this time to ask, "So what's the damage like down there?"

Mike turned back to the television, listening to some lady attempt to shout above the roaring wind and the buckets of rain being dropped on her, causing her flimsy umbrella to become limp and essentially useless. She kept brushing strands of hair out of her face and pouting, gesturing wildly to the storm behind her raging on.

Don shrugged a bit. "It was pretty flooded, we're probably going to have drainage for a few days." He replied, rubbing his face with a towel after he'd tossed the other to Raph. "Raph and I managed to get everything cut off though. One of the flaps I installed malfunctioned and so we were out there a bit longer than I had anticipated. Sorry."

Leo tilted his head and nodded understandingly, deciding to let the matter go. "Do you think we'll need to evacuate anytime during the night?"

"No, I think we've got it under control. The streets might flood a bit, and I'm sure people will be pissed off, but unless they figure out a way to drain the water down here again we should be fine."

Everyone apparently accepted this, Leo sitting down on the couch next to Mikey. Whenever a storm hit, Leo didn't budge from the couch, and wouldn't change the channel, which usually irritated the hell out of Raphael, who didn't see what the big deal was. Don went to take a shower, and while Raph was waiting for his turn, he paced irritably, grimacing with every squish and squash. "I hate bein' wet."

Mike twisted around on the couch again, a profoundly confused look on his face. "Yer a turtle, brah. How can you hate being wet?"

Raph flinched and made a pretend lunge at him accompanied by a murderous growl, one that caused Mike to jump and spill a handful of tortilla shells into Leo's lap. "Okay, you hate being wet. I get the picture. Sheesh. Uh... Leo, you can keep those."

"Thank you, Michelangelo." Leo replied nonenthustistically.

* * *

Deep crimson cloaks billowed in the vicious wind, snapping like a bullwhip in the hands of twisted howling gusts. The bamboo hat that topped the cloak miraculously stayed untouched as if leaden, its sharp flat edge cutting through the wind like a sword's sharp blade and letting it glide over its smooth slightly coned top lost to the darkness far behind the figure. The black mask that adorned his face and covered everything but his eyes was pulled tight as he faced into the wind; those scarlet eyes squinted to protect his eyes from the wind. A long staff was held erect to his right, crowned by a broad flat double-edged axe blade.

When a flash of light and a clap of thunder tore through the sky, he narrowed his eyes to mere slits and slammed his staff onto the ground three sharp times. Rain started to tear downwards, cutting through the air and pelting all who stood below with immense force, enough to cause bruises to exposed and unprotected skin. Car horns now blared loudly from all around the city, in a rush to get to their destination or crashing. More lighting brightened the sky in a dazzling show of electricity and thunder clapping from all around, shaking the buildings with the pure power of sound.

"Those turtles are still living in the sewers, under the streets and buildings that we, The Foot, own! Under roads that we rule and apartments we control! They are a pest, and need to be eliminated!" He slammed his staff down again, one loud hollow sound that cut through the pounding rain and thundering storm like an arrow slicing through the air.

The rows of dogi clad warriors all chanted in unison three times, "Haw! Haw! Haw!" slamming their foot down on the roof at every loud exclamation. They all stopped and, as one, stood straight once more, all eyes on the red-cloaked figures.

Another crimson clad warrior stood forward, his weapon a short staff with who slightly hooked swords tipping each end, like twin gleaming machetes. "They are taking from our territory, stealing what is rightfully ours! This must be ended, and the only fitful end is death!" He slammed his weapon down, a sharp metallic sound echoing to the city below, the grey torment of sky.

Another chant of "Haw! Haw! Haw!" and foot slamming, a clap of thunder, and realigning later another crimson cloaked figure stepped forward, a trident gleaming in the thunder ridden sky, "They must die! We know where they dare to tread the surface and it is there that we shall launch our ambush! It is there that we shall reclaim what is rightfully ours and gain our revenge!"

"HAW! HAW! HAW! HAW! HAW!"

* * *

**Don't forget to check out Willowfly's fics, and Ming's new story 'Miscommunications'. The Power of Fanfiction compels you!**

_Yep. We're sorry that this chapter took ages to put up. And I would like to thank Willowfly for helping me with that last part, your totally awesome!_


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